Chapter Text
“ Hrrn wrrsh?”
My body stiffened ever so slightly as Gagark pointed over my shoulder at something that must’ve been a great distance behind me, and even before I could turn around to the origin of his curiosity, I heard it.
A ship.
“ Sssssshh? Greeetoo? Mmmh, sssh ssshh! ” The lack of water caused my voice to come out raspy as my vision caught wind of the vehicle landing about 50 meters away from our tribe. Everyone around me seemed to turn their attention to the unwanted visitor. We were miles away from the nearest outpost. What could a pilot possibly be doing all the way out here?
“ Hrrr, wrrraah?! ” Gagark began to reach for his weapon strapped to his back, but I extended my hand in his direction, palming the air as I signalled for a moment to reconsider pacifism. “ Uh uh! Koo wah! Greez bah! Sekku na! ” I called out sternly, flicking my gaze back to my brother as I demanded for him to not engage. “ Hrrr... Oocha! Ssshhh, Byyyaaa! ” He gestured angrily in my direction, and if he could see my face underneath my helmet, it would be one of irritation.
It seemed he could tell by my body language I wasn’t fucking around, and he spun on his heel and began to skitter towards our Urtya * as I faced my body back to the vehicle. Even from far away, the exposure of the sun made it impossible for me not to notice the ramp of the ship begin to lower, the panel disturbing the sand as it made contact with the ground. I called upon Yacrac, who had also taken notice of the visitor, and I beckoned him to my side as we began to approach. The figure that divulged from the ship was one I recognized. Not from my own personal experience, but stories.
From head to toe, he was clad in beskar armor, from shoulder platings to steel-plated boots. I took note of his utility belt, which sported a pistol holster that was occupied by a hand-held blaster. As I got closer to him with Yacrac, he was also crossing the terrain as well right towards us. My companion made a note to remove their staff from their back and arm it within his hands, I myself keeping my hands free to at least imitate a “we mean no harm” sort of attitude.
Everything I heard, every story, every depiction of him, it did no justice to the sheer energy radiating off of him. He walked with little fear, no hesitation. He came to our tribe with intent, and it was my job to kindly inform him that he could not possibly have any business here. No one does.
Finally closing the distance between us and him, he stood maybe 10 feet in front of us, his attention focused on me, negligent of Yacrac’s defensive demeanor. He began to sign - sloppily - in TSL*, and I took note of his movements.
I believe your tribe is harboring one of my bounties.
I signed back to him.
That is not possible. We do not engage with outsiders, therefore there should not be any reason for your kind to intrude on our land.
He signed back, just as quick, seeming to recall more TSL the longer he moved his arms.
She is female. Young. I have a bounty puck with an image of a Tusken Raider. Her chain code indicates that she should be in her early 20s.
I let out a grunt, displaying my displeasure. Either it was a translation error, or he just completely ignored me. I signed again.
You have no business here. Leave.
He tilted his helmet to the side, almost as if he was examining me.
I will not be leaving without my bounty. I do not intend to harm your tribe, I am only here to retrieve her.
I almost wanted to laugh. No, I did laugh, my memory almost betrayed me.
The bounty hunter’s body language indicated confusion as I chuckled at his stubbornness. Yacrac also laughed, but it came out more as a primal guffaw.
I signed again.
We do not wish to harm you as well. The Tusken Raiders have no issue with the people of Mandalore, and I see no reason as to why that must change.
“I know you speak Basic.” He suddenly spoke aloud, and Yacrac extended his weapon further, the Mandalorian’s vocal indication provoking him to take a defensive stance. I gestured with my left hand for him to lower his weapon, which he obliged.
“You need to leave.” I responded back, my voice hoarse. “Your puck does not indicate any signs of legal disobedience, so I have no reason to throw you in carbon unless you give me one.” He responded, his voice modulated through his helmet to come out baritone.
“I have done nothing to provoke action against the New Republic.” I reached towards my helmet, and Yacrac whipped his head towards me as I slid back my hood with one hand and removed my helmet with both. I shook my head back and forth a little, allowing the sand to slide off my brown locks as I pensively gazed at the bounty hunter.
“This quarry is personal.”
I squinted my eyes at him. “What do I owe the pleasure of a personal bounty?”
“It’s from your Uncle.”