The Negotiator and the Fire Fang

Shadows of the Ancient Sith: The Hermit in Anchorhead

"Excuse me, pardon me." Ben Kenobi muttered under his breath as he squeezed through a crowd of overheating customers waiting to pay for their items.

He sidestepped a grumpy looking woman holding a gallon of blue Bantha milk and ducked under the chin of a large Ithorian before slipping out into the blinding sunlight of a Tatooinian afternoon.

There was no wonder in his mind as to why Anakin had hated this planet so much. Visiting it was one thing, but to live here was something completely different.

He had been here only three standard months and he was already tired of the blazing sun; How the boiling days turned to frigid nights; The dry air; How the sun reflected off the dunes and made it nearly impossible to see where you were going; How sand somehow ended up everywhere. He would sweep and sweep and still end up with a miniature version of the Xelric Draw in his hut.

Kenobi converged onto the main street of Anchorhead. The cloak he was wearing was simultaneously keeping the sun from burning him to a crisp while also forming beads of sweat on his neck and back. He ducked his head down to try and blend in with the other ruffians and scoundrels in the area.

The town hadn't changed much since he had first visited all those years ago. The same shops lined the dusty, rundown route than ran through the center of town. The Anchorhead Grand Arena was still up and running. In fact, it was doing better than ever since the installation of the Empire. Garitana's was still the most popular cantina this side of Mos Eisley.

There were some new additions that had been added more recently. A few merchants had settled here and there were three new mositure farms as well. A whole new neighborhood had been built on the north end of town, expanding it a good amount.

A tension had arisen over the settlement as well. The Imperials had set up shop on the west side with stormtroopers patrolling the streets day and night.  The Empire had come in like desert storm and completely disrupted the delicate balance of power and as a result, a struggle between them and Jabba the Hutt had ensued almost over night.

The two were still learning how to co-exist in the same area. Multiple fights had broken out between imperial troopers and Hutt's men, sending some to the infirmary and, more recently, the grave. Two troopers and one of Jabba's henchmen had been killed in a skirmish the other night, bringing both sides to a boiling point. And if that wasn't enough, Jabba the Hutt wasn't the only person the Empire's presence was upsetting.

There had been multiple Tusken Raider attacks recently as well. It was hard enough on the Sandpeople when they only had to worry about Jabba's men. Now they had the Empire infringing on their land and disrespecting their Banthas, which were sacred to the Tusken people.

They had retaliated quickly, going after convoys, killing stormtroopers, ambushing civilians. The Jundland Wastes were always a dangerous passage, but now not a soul would dare go into them. Except him, of course. He lived on the opposite side of it. But the Raiders didn't bother with the former Jedi. The first time they jumped him, he pulled out his lightsaber, they took off and that was that.

As he walked along, Kenobi found himself wondering what would have happened had he and Master Qui-Gon never landed on Tatooine.

It wasn't the first time in recent memory that that topic had flitted across his mind. It would have meant no Empire and no Order 66, but it would have also meant no Anakin. He sighed out his nose. Wondering about what ifs would do him no good.

Ben turned a dusty corner and found his run down speeder right where he left it. He dropped his satchel of items, which included some machine parts for his vaporator, which had stopped working, a new wrench, and some oil, in his passenger's seat. The former Republic general then hopped in and sped onto the route that skirted the outside of the settlement.

To his left was Anchorhead. It was square buildings made of pale sandstone, hanging tarps, and sun bleached roads.

To his right was an endless expanse of sand that went on seemingly for infinity. Beyond that, he didn't know. He figured you would eventually hit another settlement. In that direction, Mos Kyspa was your best bet.

The town began to shrink behind him as he drove over the barren land, sending the dusty sand in small whirls in the wake of his landspeeder.

Kenobi winced against the light of the right sun as he ascended up a large dune. He lifted his hand to block it out, but it didn't help much. He blinked the shifting after images away as he plateaued at the top.

He could see the Wastes now, which looked small and almost pretty from this distance. They were a large rocky canyon that spanned for miles in each direction.

He had come across an abandoned old hermit's hut his first few days in Anchorhead, which he took as his own. It was in decent condition and was also far away from the town, so no prying eyes or questioning neighbors. He could also take care of his mission covertly from there, so it suited his needs well.

Kenobi pushed his speeder forward through a large rocky formation and into the notorious Jundland Wastes.

In this part of the canyon, there was a narrow pathway that stretched along the cliff side, which ended in a two hundred foot drop onto unforgiving rocks if one stepped too close to the side. Luckily for him, he didn't have to drive there. A path hidden along the side could take him up to the top of the canyon easily and safely. From there it was a short trip to his home.

Ben pulled up next to his hut. He liked it overall, but was still getting used to the idea of living on his own. He had assumed he would live at the temple the rest of his life, so Kenobi never really thought about having a home to himself.

It was the perfect size for one, maybe two people. The only issue he had with living here was the quiet. It was usually silent, with the exception the occasional wind or sandstorm. It was nice during the day, but after growing up in a temple filled with hundreds of Jedi and serving in a war for three straight years, it was hard to sleep with no bombs or blasters going off or being woken up by an ambush.

He hopped out of the speeder and picked up his satchel. He rubbed the back of his burned neck, relieved that most of the sting had faded. This much sun was not good for the skin. He got this burn from working on the vaporator for a little too long yesterday.

Ben paused on the threshold of his home as something pricked at his ears.

The sound was hard to distinguish at first due to the passing of the breeze. As the wind came to a gradual standstill, it became clear: it was the sound of screaming and blaster fire.

His heart rate kicking up as Kenobi sprinted to his front door. He typed in the passcode and dumped his bag on floor before sprinting to the edge of the cliff behind his hut. From this overlook, he could see everything from the Wastes to Anchorhead.

Way down below, the size of a child's toy, was a civilian transport pouring smoke into the clear sky. Outside of it, Sandpeople were facing off against a small squadron of stormtroopers.

The people on board, most likely heading from Mos Espa or Mos Eisley, all took off running away from the firefight towards Anchorhead. These attacks had become so commonplace in the last few weeks that the Empire had taken to arming the transports. That obviously had not deterred the Raiders.

He had the urge to help break up the fight, to be the peacekeeper that he trained his whole life to be, but couldn't. He needed to be a ghost. Never seen but always there, especially where the Imperials were involved.

The Tusken Raiders didn't matter too much. No one but a few rare droids could understand Tuskenese, and even then, the translation was shoddy. Even if someone could understand them, the sad reality was they likely wouldn't believe a Sandperson anyway, whether they were telling the truth or not.

The fighting began to break up after a moment. The Tusken Raiders were retreating into the safety of the sand dunes where they knew stormtroopers wouldn't pursue. If they got lost, they would be dead men. No one had been injured or killed thankfully. Just a bunch of empty fire.

Kenobi backed away from the edge. The excitement was over with so it was time that he returned to his hut and started some dinner. He stood up, but something caught his eye below; Three Tusken Raiders had cornered a civilian and a droid and were chasing them into the Jundland Wastes.