Take Off The Mask

[Alric Kuhn]

It was a good thing that Ned was getting a Hundred Thousand Credits to take Alric to Danger, otherwise he might have turned the ship around and taken him directly back to Mos Eisley. Ned didn't however, and instead the two of them shot through the desert with all the speed of a bantha set on fire. The rusty old speeder pushed its way through the desert rather quickly, surprisingly so, and as they zoomed through, kicking up dust and sand, Alric couldn't help but be impressed.

The man tried to make idle small talk several times, but Alric wasn't having it.

He was still fuming, still angry.

Alric wanted to strangle her, he wanted to grasp her and shake her until her brain was connected to another setting. Perhaps then she would get what his problem was, why she was wrong, why she should have just come see him herself.

He scowled, the scarf flickering around as the air zoomed passed them.

“How long?” Alric finally asked after nearly an hour had passed. The old man called out a number to Alric, though as night began to settle the figure was lost to him.

Hours.

Hours till he would find her.

 

[Danger Arceneau]

T A T O O I N E
J U N D L A N D W A S T E S


What did he want?

The past few hours were spent walking back and forth inside of the stronghold. Her mind was racing, going through different possibilities and reasons for it all. It irked her. It ticked her off.

As the minutes would tick, she would find herself getting more and more upset. Why did he have to be such a tool?! By Inari's robe did the man make no god awful sense!

She fumed, walk stiff from her emotions and only spurn on more by the faint tinge of soreness that were reminders of her own idiocy.

Goodness gracious, she was better than this!

Her feet found their way downstairs and into a grand hall. Here the pour stone had been matched with the rock of the cliff, with paraphernalia of Tatooine decorating the walls. Blaster weapons of every kind -- even a few slug throwers. Some of which would bring to mind Alric Kuhn's face as a fantastic target practice dummy.

Feth.

With every step she took, the more livid she became.

Just who does he think he is?!

 

[Alric Kuhn]

Target dummy or not, Alric went sailing through the desert of Tatooine, cutting through sand as though it were nothing.

It was only when the twin suns began to rise once again that he stirred, life entering, his throat retching from dryness. He moved to pull the scarf to the side so that he could drink from his waterbottle, but a hand immediately caught his arm. Angrily Alric looked over to the old man, but from the look in his eyes he saw that the man was more than a little serious.

He was about to speak, when the speeder slowed to a halt.

“Thats dangerous laddy.”

Ned spoke through the scarf as the speeder came to a complete step wedged between three massive dunes. Everything around them was obscured, though Alric hardly noticed or cared. He was far more interesting in what Ned had to say, oddly, he was rather keen on learning more about Tatooine, if only so he could throw the information in Dangers face when she later claimed he had no business being here.

“The sands too fast. You catch a wrong gust of wind, a push too strong, and you can end up with yer throat bleeding and cut to ribbons.”

Alric looked at Ned, then to his water bottle, then at the sand surrounding them.

Great.

Apparently just moving about could kill you here.

 

[Danger Arceneau]

T A T O O I N E
J U N D L A N D W A S T E S


Night fell on Tatooine and the desert came to life.

Critters that would escape the harsh arid heat of the Twin Sun in the day would scurry over the dunes of the Western Sea, eager to find an unsuspecting meal.

No Man's land was a dangerous play in daylight; and absolutely treacherous at night. The glow of firelight would be sure to attract the attention of creatures for four legs and two. This was a land where one had to keep eyes on the back of their head -- often times quite literally.

Woe to those travelers who would be so foolishly out in the open -- pray that the night would be undisturbed. For although Alric and Ned had a day's worth of time as a headstart, there were others who would track their trail to claim an easy fifty thousand.

And if they didn't know Arceneau well, it usually came with a nice little bonus on top of it.

******​

​

​

Danger herself would find her own bed, only it would be a mite more restless. Nights were sultry hot, with the kiss of desert air every now and then through the open pour stone windows. She lay upon comfortable light sheets made for the weather, the cool brush of cotton fabric a comfortable delight to bare skin.

Skin that still bore testament to her actions not four days prior.

A groan broke the silence, and her palms found her face. She had volleyed between emotions of anger, wariness, nervousness, and then anger again -- and she hated herself for it.

I should just get him killed. Get it over with. Done.

But that only complicated things -- and what if he had sent word to let out what had happened at his death? What happened with Six? Danger had sent word out to 'Lisha but nothing had come back yet. That unnerved her.

Things didn't add up right.

No -- something had to had happened.

 

[Alric Kuhn]

The morning sun was cool on his skin, somehow bringing him an effect of not only inner warmth, but outer. He stood within the rays, smiling slightly, holding his water bottle with his eyes closed. It reminded him of that feeling, the wellness, the warmth, the sensation of pleasure and satisfaction that she had...that she had given him.

He frowned, shaking his head slightly and lowering his face to look at his shoes.

They were just about the only thing that actually matched his surroundings, the only bit of clothing that was fit for travel in a desert. They clashed with his suit quite a bit, but they were comfortable, breathing, and quite stylish in their own right. When he walked in them he felt as though he was walking in a cloud, an important feature on a trip like this.

Suddenly the roar of an engine caught his ears.

Alrics head snapped over to Ned who quickly grabbed a rifle from the speeders back.

“Ned?” Alric asked loudly as the man loaded a powerpack into the blaster rifle and stood behind the Speeder. The old Man motioned for Alric to follow, and quickly the CEO rushed towards the speeder, moving alongside Ned to quickly hide in place. “Who could be out here?”

“People lookin' fer you.”

Alric gave him a puzzled look. “Me?”

He didn't have any bounties. All of his illegal activities were completely hidden. The face that ran Titan was not his own, and everything else was simply not bounty worthy. There was absolutely no reason for anyone to come after him exc-

“She put a bounty on ya. Fifty Thousand to whoever returns you to Mos Eisley and throws you off Tatooine.”

Fuck.

 

[Danger Arceneau]

T A T O O I N E
J U N D L A N D W A S T E S

With dawn came the scent of freshly brewed StarCaf. The caffeine would give her a good wake up jolt, something she needed to get her head on straight. It had been a rather restless night, one that had her mulling over her options.

With a steaming cup of dark liquid in tow, Danger would make her way upstairs, up towards the direction of the balcony. The morning suns rays had barely cut against the withering dawn, their light dancing across the dunes so far away. The chill of the night still would linger, but as the suns would traverse across the sky, it would grow warmer.

She took a tentative sip of her caf, her eyes lightly squinting off in the distance. A moment of silence passed and then with a heavy sigh she said, "Alright daddy." making a decision that made her constitution hardened like cast iron.

"This won't break me."

She'd suffered through worse and came out stronger. She made her choice.

Granted, the only difference between a prayer and a curse is the one who stands to profit.

 

[Alric Kuhn]

Alric had never been in a fight like this.

Oh he had been in bar fights, crowded fights, hell even outright gang wars, but never quite something like this. The men who had approached them had all come on swoop bikes, there were four of the, each one heavily armed though not wearing any armor. They recognized Alric almost instantly, after all he was the boob wearing a full blooded suit on Tatooine, one that was getting extremely hot.

The group of men then demanded Alrics surrender.

Unsurprisingly, Ned said no.

The first shot rang out from Ned himself, he pulled the trigger only a second after he gave answer to the four men, instantly shooting one through the head and killing them. Alrics only answer the the act was a resounding cry of. “WOW WOW WOW!”

As well as a steep backing away from Ned himself.

That was when the shooting truly began. Blaster bolts and slugs thrown from pistols began to fly, searing metal plates and crashing into the sands all around Ned and Alric. The CEO of Blas-Tech panicked, jumping and scurrying about the dune valley, dodging Blaster fire an attempting not to get struck as the four remaining men desperately battle it out.

“Fuck.” Alric said to himself as he ran up one of the dunes and away from the fight.

 

[Danger Arceneau]

T A T O O I N E
J U N D L A N D W A S T E S


Right, first things first. She had to get a plan going, and that plan's first step was contacting Alisha. However, being out here on No Man's land meant that she couldn't quite make a direct call -- not with all the ore deposits that made it near impossible to send any transmission out. No, for this she'd need to head back to Arceneau Trade Headquarters. From there, she could start making her calls.

Figure out what happened with Six and why in tarnation Kuhn was here.

Her daddy done taught her to never run from a fight; and she wasn't going to start now. No, her years had seen her age like a bottle of whiskey and she'd be damned if she was going to let another man dictate her actions. There was a stubborn flex to her jaw, but in that also was the set of determination on her shoulders. That bit of confidence was back.

It ain't nothing to worry her head over. Whats done is done and all she could do now is move forward. Life taught her to take it by firm fistfulls and hold on tight despite the bucks, and she was gonna trudge on forward like she'd done the past decade to get Arceneau Trade where it was today.

 

[Alric Kuhn]

Alric ran as fast as he could. Blaster Bolts were still sailing, slughtrowers were ringing out, and he as he made it nearly to the top of the dune he felt the intense quake of a concussive blast. The sand atop the dune shook loose, and Alric found himself struggling to stand. He slipped, falling on his rear and sliding a meter down the dune before righting himself. His eyes bulged open as she saw what was happening down in the valley below.

Two of the four men that had arrived were still standing, both of them were holding blaster rifles, one was handling a silver orb.

Ned was still up behind the speeder, pointing his heavy blaster rifle towards the man with the silver orb. It was too late though. The orb went flying, Alric could hear the loud resounding beep that resonated, followed by the loud clink of the silver sphere hitting the speeder, once, then twice, the-

The speeder, and Ned with it were engulfed in a massive explosion.

The thermal detonator went off with such force that the dunes collapsed all around them, sand falling like an avalanche. Out of pure instinct Alric began to roll to the right, scrambling to get out of the falling river of sand and managing to do so just in time before the entire tip of the dune collapsed where he had been laying. With heavy panted breaths Alric tried to right himself.

“YOU!”

He heard the voice shot, and his head snapped towards it.

One of the bounty hunters was still standing, two others were dead, and one was likely buried beneath the sand.

He had a chance.

As fast as he could Alric scrambled up and over the Dune, blaster shots ringing all around him likely meant to scare him. He rushed, hopping over the massive mound of sand and into the aimless desert holding only a half empty water bottle.

 

[Danger Arceneau]

T A T O O I N E
J U N D L A N D W A S T E S

Her speeder was packed within the hour, outfitted with four days worth of goods. This was the first thing one learned while in the desert, is that you prepared for the unexpected. It was about a day and a half's ride from the Jundland Wastes to Mos Eisley, but anything between that and here could delay her.

Sandstorms. Tusken Raiders. Exchange. Hell, any likely event could happen. Water, food, a med-kit, over night kit roll, a tent, and a couple of blaster rifles. One couldn't be too safe. She learned that early on.

With a change of clothes she was ready, fully attired in light clothing made to retain moisture and reflect the bright sun's rays. A face mask would go over her mouth, allowing her to breath better, but the voice modular would give her voice a metallic tinge. Goggles would come down over her eyes, and a beige scarf would go wrapping over her lower face and up over a full face gaiter.

Around her neck she had a small pouch of Asphodlaria Mold. It could only be found in deep caves beneath the deserts of Tatooine. These caves were long ago carved by the massive Greater Krayt Dragons of the desert and have since remained largely empty. Still, moisture gathers within these caves and using this moisture the Asphodlaria Mold grows in small patches. It should be noted that the conditions for this mold has to be absolutely perfect and stumbling upon it is completely impossible.

Asphodlaria Mold has unique healing properties. These healing properties can be equated to that of Bacta and Kolto, though it is far more efficient, much more like the fabled Kolcta. Arceneau Trade Company, and by extension Danger Arceneau had been aware of Asphodlaria Mold for some time. However, harvesting the substance in any great quantity proved to be completely infeasible and reproducing it through synthetic means was impossible.

The Mold works much in the same way that Kolcta does, and has many of the same effects. When processed into a serum the Mold is capable of healing nearly any wound, reattaching limbs, fighting off infections and even countering the effects of aging if regularly ingested along with acting as a very effective anti-bacteria.

It was still early morn, so she'd be able to make her way to the nearest outpost, relax and maybe talk to the Jawa Clans during the hottest part of the day. Late afternoon she'd continue further until she reached the subsequent outpost.

One never slept out in No Man's land after dark.

That was just begging to get shot.

 

[Alric Kuhn]

Alric went tumbling down a dune for the third time that morning, falling through the sands and kicking up great clouds of dust and other particles, tumbling over and over again until he reached the soft sandy bottom of the desert.

There he lay within the sand, his suit hot, his body covered in a thing sheen of sweat, and his hair in utter disarray due to wind and the grit that had so easily fallen into it. He let out a loud sigh, laying on his back within the dune. His fists were shaking, and he could feel any and all fluids starting to leave him entirely. His eyes closed, and the thanked the force or whatever that he had listened to Ned about taking the scarf.

With the beating heat of Twin Suns Alric had managed to keep his skin mostly covered, using the scarf to wrap his head and keeping the rest of his clothes on at all times, even if it meant being hot as all hell.

Alric had no idea how long he had been walking, nor did he have any idea where he was walking to. It seemed that seconds after he moved somewhere his footsteps would be erased, and moments after he crossed a dune it would shift and go elsewhere.

He was sure death was inevitable.

Laying in the twin suns he let out a loud sigh, the power of his glasses having long since gone out rendering them nothing but a pair of darkened lenses, though he was thankful for that. Slowly Alric managed to push himself up and off the sandy ground, clumps of dirt falling from him. His white shirt was stained yellow, and the tie that had been born neatly around his neck was now tied in a belt loop to his water bottle, the bottle itself was only a fifth full.

“Well. You lived a full life.” Alric told himself as he took another step forward.

A valley lay ahead of him. Two massive dunes that seemed to split the desert for the next three miles. He looked at the huge, nearly mountain sized hills of sand and shook his head.

There was no way.

His eyes followed the path of the valley, deciding that it was his only way through. The thought of an ambush never occurred to him, the idea that something out here was alive was a distant thought. Alric shook his head, then simply began to trudge through the sand.

As midday arrived Alric felt the heat of the twin suns baring down on him. The hot rays beating though his black suit jacket and swarming him like bees. In exasperation he removed the jacket, folding it slightly and looping a finger through its holder. He tossed the fine suit over his shoulder, and began to walk further. He did not notice the figures atop the tall dunes around him, he did not notice their movements or the massive Banthas alongside them. He didn't notice their cries, nor their rifles resounding as they fired all around him.

Only when their chief stood in his way did Alric see the Tusken Raiders.

Dozens of warriors stood all around him. Each one looking to kill, capture, loot, each one unintelligible and yelling, each one angry and waving his gaffi stick of slugthrower. Alric looked at them all, eyes hidden behind sunglasses as they panned over the hundreds of warriors that were now in the valley surrounding.

“kark.”

 

[Danger Arceneau]

T A T O O I N E
J U N D L A N D W A S T E S


A few hours of travel saw the lone speeder travel first through the grand canyons that would lead her to the Western Dune sea. Sand would billow in her wake, leaving a trail of dust and sand as Danger would weave her way to and fro.

One had to be careful in No Man's land. Constantly be at the ready. It was here that she'd learned how to heighten her senses, to be a quick draw, to survive out in the wilderness. Time and time and again, August Arceneau would teach his daughter the ways of their ancestors, pirates that they were. Lorell some would say, and often attributed her looks to those ancient Hapan ties.

It didn't matter to Danger. At the time, she was a late bloomer anyways and spent most of her time binding her breasts and dressing like an errand boy for Arceneau Trade. She cut her teeth in barfights, in days out in the dunes, and molded herself in the tried and true methods of what intestinal fortitude it required to survive on this particular hive of scum and villainy.

The first outpost wasn't too far, she'd make it in less than an hour. High noon would be upon her and one didn't want to stay out in the blasting rays of the Twin Suns for long.

That was reckless.

Not to mention -- stupid.

 

[Alric Kuhn]

Stupid as as stupid does, Danger.

Alric now walked hand in hand with a caravan of Tusken Raiders, or more accurately, Hand to rope. His arms were tied behind his back, securely fashioned in place by a length of tied Bantha hair. His feet were free, and his clothes, as well as his glasses, remained mostly intact. It seemed that they were not interested in looting him, or killing him for that matter.

He found that odd.

Everything he had heard about Tusken Raiders suggested that they would have done just that. Tortured him, then swiftly killed him. They were supposed to have been vicious mindless monsters.

Yet as he walked with them, he began to notice a certain sense of...order, among them. They organized themselves into neat rows. Certain males would wander to the edges of the columns, scouts, others would move towards the center and the one riding the Banthas remained vigilant the entire time. Far from the mindless monsters they were portrayed to be in popular media. Alric noticed this, though he realized it didn't really matter.

There was no chance for him to escape.

No chance to run or escape. There was simple too many of them, and he doubted that the numbers would thin any time soon.

Of course what Alric couldn't have known was that the Bounty Hunter that had earlier chased him had not only seen Alric get captured, but witnessed in which direction the Tuskens had taken him. Like a smart man, he had absconded, and quickly headed for the nearest outpost.

Alric didn't know this, so while he wandered through the desert he thought of his own mortality.

 

[Danger Arceneau]

T A T O O I N E
J U N D L A N D W A S T E S
O u t p o s t Z a r o s h e


The wind wailed as the cantina door slid open and just as quickly slid shut again, blocking off the small cloud of sand and grit blown in by the gust. The figure who had just walked in was dressed in tattered desert gear, a dark beige cloak that brushed the floor with the hood flicked over his head to shadow the majority of his visage.

What little that showed underneath proved to be a tan colored utility suit with many pockets, a pair of thick hide boots, dark gloves, vision goggles and a strip of cloth over the mouth, covering up a dark gunmetal gray breathing mask. He was not very tall, no more than average height, and carried twin Ambassador pistols on a tan belt that slung low on his hips. The sentient paused and looked around, then finally settled the dark tinted goggles on the barkeep.

With a sure stride of notable confidence, he'd make his way down to the bar. There finding a seat that kept her back to the wall and her eyes on the front door, came the order of water. Granted, it was from the local moisture farms, but it was something to keep hydrated with. Alcohol was fine and dandy, but those folks who would travel the dunes and the Jundland wastes knew they had to keep constantly hydrated.

Danger wouldn't bother taking off her headgear. No, keeping a low profile and blending in is what would allow her to make good time to Mos Eisley without being detained for one reason or another. That was the name of the game here. Blend in. Don't stick out.

And keep your gun hand at the ready.

The glass of moisture farm water came to her in a questionable clean glass, but she didn't care. A small snap of the breathing mask would reveal a small straw like contraption that she'd use to pour the water into her own canteen and take a drink.

This place was small, the only cantina within twenty miles of this tiny outpost. The patronage was few, but steady as it was one of the few pit stops to restock on supplies before heading out into the Western Dune Sea.

Low murmurs of conversation would come here and there, and while Danger rehydrated, she would do her usual, observe. Out in the far corner, there was a particularly grim looking male with another companion. He looked as if he'd walked through the void and back, and had been cursing something fierce. What manner of story was his, she figured it was the same -- bandits or Raiders.

At least, that was what she figured until she heard that one name her ears had been hypersensitive about.

Alric Kuhn.

 

[Alric Kuhn]

It was strange.

The desert.

They had been walking for some time now and to Alrics eyes absolutely nothing had changed. There was still nothing but stark yellow and white, still nothing but twin suns beating down in heat, still nothing all around them. He saw no change, no difference, absolutely nothing. Yet the Tuskens did. They moved and curved through the desert naturally, like a Krayt Dragon burrowed beneath the sands.

To a man contemplating his death, it was almost poetic.

A few times he began to lag behind, exhaustion and heat touching him to a degree where he nearly fell over. Each time one of the Tuskens would come up behind him and grab his arm, holding him steady while forcing water down his throat. Each time he would receive the jab of a fist or a Gaffi stick in his ribs. He knew he was slowing them down, knew that they were going at a snails pace because of their prisoner.

He didn't understand it.

Why keep him alive now?

Were they not just going to kill him anyway? It would have been easier to just throw him down into the sands, helpless and dried up. He doubted they cared about him, and they certainly did not have grand plans for him unless-

Something clicked in his head.

He started to shake slightly, looking down at his hands, then at his feet, then at his arms. The raw muscle that lay covered beneath the now yellow stained dress shirt, the fitness of his body, the healthy physique he had.

A loud groan escaped his lips as he realized what was happening.

 

[Danger Arceneau]

T A T O O I N E
J U N D L A N D W A S T E S
O u t p o s t Z a r o s h e

To the other patrons it would appear that the figure sat quietly, the hooded masked sentient saying nothing as he listened in. However, Danger stared expectantly, dark goggled eyes piercing the that narrowed at the Bounty Hunter in suspicion at the mention of Kuhn's name.

"Karking fifty thousand credits man -- easy job too. We were gonna split it four ways, just had to get the prissy son-of-a-schutta off this dustball." he would say cursing, wincing as he would press a questionably clean cloth at his head. It was covered in blood.

The masked figured remained silent, staring at the Bounty Hunter through the mirrored goggles, with nothing more than a mask and atmosphere dividing them.

There came the slow steps of feet, and then the dusty masked Bedouin found himself standing beside the Bounty Hunter. A soft metallic voice grated through the breathing mask, monotone in pitch and blunt in observation, just loud enough for the Bounty Hunter to hear.

"What do you know of Alric Kuhn?" That the Trade Queen had set up a bounty had trickled across the areas. Local boys were apt to pick it up, so hearing another ask about that was not a rare thing.

A scoff and a narrowed gaze would look up at the masked figure. "Good karkin luck. You're too late. The Raiders got him first."

A sudden sinking in her stomach came first. Dread.

"That ain't a bounty you're gonna get unless you looking to join Kuhn in chains."

The anger came next.

 

[Alric Kuhn]

It was another hour before they stopped, another hour traipsing around within the desert with the realization of what was about to happen to him hanging over him.

He was to be a slave.

A working man. Someone the Tuskens could bandy about and likely work to death in the hot unbearable heat of Tatooine. The very thought of that made Alric want to break away from this group of merry Tuskens and go die in the desert somewhere, but he knew that was stupid, he knew that if tried they'd shoot him in a heartbeat, and in the end, he would rather die as a slave than a coward.

His scowl pressed into his face.

He had to find a way out. There was always a way out.

Even in Dejarik, when one was cornered and pressed into what they thought was a single move, there was always another. He just had to find it, he had to look and see what the move was. His mind began to race, only half functioning due to the heat and thirst in his throat.

So buried was Alric in thought that when they stepped into the fortress like encampment of the Tusken Raiders, he didn't even notice.

 

[Danger Arceneau]

T A T O O I N E
S O U T H E R N J U N D L A N D W A S T E S


The suns were setting into the distant sun, painting the sky in crimson, canary, and cobalt blue streaks. Most folk would ask her why Danger was so keen on staying here on Tatooine, why bother with a planet full of sand, arid heat, and the threat of death at every dune. Why? Well, it was sights like this. Tatooine may be rough round the edges, and might be the kind to breathe hellfire on earth, but it was her home.

As comfortable as a well worn shoe.

Granted, the beauty of the setting suns went past Danger's head at the present time. Her mind was currently focused on the fact that that blasted ass of an Alric Kuhn managed to get himself captured by one of the tribes of Tusken Raiders. Which one? Well that was like a needle in the haystack.

Nek take it!

More probing questions had been tossed at the Bounty Hunter for about ten minutes, so much that he got fed up and told Danger to leave. Granted, Danger wasn't the sort to waste time nor was she feeling mighty cordial. Twin Ambassador pistols would draw to the bounty hunter's unprotected bloody head -- and in it a right kindly request for him to answer all of her questions.

He wasn't too hard pressed after that.

His directions would suggest that the Raiders managed to bag Kuhn some where round The Shattered Basin was a sinkhole on the edge of the Southern Jundland Wastes that was reachable via a tunnel. The Sevarin Mesa formed the eastern border of the Basin, and the mesa was lined with windmills. Joroshe's Spirit Cave, a sacred Tusken Raider cave, was located in the Basin.

North of that lay the Wound...

And about a dozen different Tusken Raider tribes each with their own method of handling captured sapients. Anger would lit her eyes under the polarized goggles. She had only a short amount of time. Time could be taken to send word to Mos Eisley, but if she waited to long, whatever trail or tracking to figure out where the blasted idiotic piece of bantha poodoo got himself into would be long gone.

And Kuhn would find himself all too acquainted to the Tusken Raider's version of southern hospitality.

 

[Alric Kuhn]

He had never seen anything like this before, not on the holo-net, not in real life, not even in old text educational novels that his father had had in his library. This was...new. Completely and entirely new. This was how the Tusken Raiders of Tatooine lived, as desert nomads, in camps of tents and rudimentary steel walls, as warriors. It was so different, so completely strange from what he was used to, the cities, the towns, this was something completely and entirely differnet.

Alrics eyes went wide more than once at what he saw.

There were about a thousand people in this camp by his estimation, likely one of the larger tribes of Tuskens.

There were Bantha and other animals, women, children, and of course men. They were all dressed in that strange garb, all dressed wrapped and hooded up. Every single one of them was hidden. He wondered why that was, though the question was quickly answered.

The flap of a tent brushed aside from the wind and Alric caught a glimpse of a Tusken without his mask.

He shuddered, his entire body getting goosebumps as he saw the creatures face. It was human...but not. A slight ringing could be heard in his ears, and the guffaw of a Tusken Raider besides him seemed to snap him out of whatever illusion seeing the unmasked Raider had caused. Alric whirled about, facing the direction in which he was being led.

There directly ahead of him was a larger than average tent, two flags standing outside its door.

Alric gulped.

 

[Danger Arceneau]

T A T O O I N E
S O U T H E R N J U N D L A N D W A S T E S

http://gfycat.com/RedNiceIndianskimmer​

The speeder came to a slow stop just as the twin suns began to dip in the horizon. Danger kicked back the peddle, locking the speeder in place. Her right leg would swing round and over, dusty boots hitting the sand and grit as her hands would lift the goggles off of her face. A small clip at the right side would loosen the face breather, prompting it to hang limply against the dark cowl she wore as protection.

Before her lay the smoldering remains of a blown up speeder along with the charred bodies of what remained. The desert was an efficient beast, already what scavengers of wildlife had already come to try to take a meal. A few womprats remained, their hisses and bright yellow eyes flashing at her direction.

A wave of her hand and a cluck of her tongue would send them scattering, moving forward to take a closer look. Her hand would click back the face breather as the scent of death and smoke would waft her way.

Her eyes began to squint as she would walk just a ways beyond the debris, looking out beyond to the basin.

Whatever clues she could find had to be done in the next thirty minutes.

Night was upon her.