The Negotiator and the Fire Fang

Raiders of the Sand: Ransack

After hours of sitting, Obi-Wan Kenobi's sense of time had fallen together into one long endless blur of sweating and fatigue. The only thing he knew was that the sunlight falling through the gaps in the tents was now casting shadows at a different angle, so they had to have been there a while.

After fighting drowsiness for a long few minutes, Sahrea had fallen asleep in her cell across the way. Her head was hanging off to the side, neck at an extreme angle. Pieces of her hair had come loose from her tie. A thin white-gold wisp was lying against her right cheekbone while a thick lock hung down on the opposite, fluttering freely in a stale draft that blew through the camp. She was gonna be sore when she woke up.

Kenobi studied her face for a moment; her soft jawline, long nose, high cheekbones. She somehow looked older since the last time they had met as general and consult, a time that felt like decades ago now. It was more mature, more sullen, aged by experience alone. It was familiar and beautiful and safe, a face he never wanted to stop gazing at.

Shan jumped awake with wild eyes as two Tusken Raiders burst through the entrance, sending the leather flap spasming into the air. The first one growled something with a good amount of hostility at them before pointing at Shan with the end of his gaffi stick.

Sahrea, looking unperturbed, took her time by stretching her neck out with a grimace and pulling her arms high over her head. The raider opened the door of her cell as she relaxed.

She sat there and blinked sleepily up at him, not making any indication of getting to her feet. The raider, irritated with her sloth, barked impatiently before grabbing her arm. He hauled the Gray roughly to her feet, her head almost colliding with the top of the cell. Shan winced in pain as the raider twisted her arm.

Even from here, Obi-Wan could see the pink ring of irritation that the rough rope had chafed around her slender wrists. Although his wrists were not as bad as her, the bindings were starting to bother his skin as well.

Kenobi got to his feet as the second raider turned to his cage. He watched as Shan was brought out of the tent by a third Tusken who was a good amount smaller than the other three. A female perhaps? She did seem to have a different build than the males, but as far as Obi-Wan knew, females weren't warriors in Tusken culture.

As the child bearers, they were considered much too valuable to throw away in a war. Maybe this one was just a small male or perhaps there was an occasional female who was made a warrior.

Very little was known about the Sandpeople's way of life due to their isolation from the settlements, along with the language barrier. To most, they were the mysterious, hostile people of the sand. Kenobi himself probably knew more than most, but even his knowledge was quite limited.

Once Kenobi ducked his way through the flaps, he was forced immediately to the left, to the tent adjacent to theirs. As he was pushed through this next tent, he realized that it was the dwelling of the Tusken chieftain.

The tent was tall and wide, making it much larger than the holding area they had come from. A long tarp cut the area in half.

On their side, the tent was decorated with Tusken art and relics that Kenobi had never seen before. Ornate gaffi sticks, totems and figures carved out of the hard flesh of a Xelric Cactus. Long grey hair that Obi-Wan assumed belonged to the Banthas, was adhered to the totems. The animals were revered in their culture.

Once Kenobi reached the front, he was shoved roughly to his knees on the uneven flooring besides Sahrea. He looked up to the chieftain. He was sitting upon a large throne made of Banthian Ivory. Carved horns, long braided Bantha hair, even Krayt Dragon teeth all decorated the piece.