"Um, thanks... I guess."
Thanking my little companion, I accepted a treat from his tiny hands. Well, "treat" is one way to put it. It was a squashed stone leech, which a normal person would never eat in their life. Not only is this creature poisonous and causes hallucinations, it's not called a stone leech for nothing! I'd grind all my teeth down or break them on it.
Setting the gift aside under the Jawa's mocking gaze, I moved following the receding shadow to the other side of the rock. Fortunately, I had plenty of food and didn't need to stoop to savage ways of eating where any crap will do as long as it fills the stomach.
Cleaning the Pistol and checking the knife in my boot, I surveyed the endless wasteland that stretched for many kilometers. Cracks riddled the ground, and the air was so stale, dry, and heavy that just breathing became difficult.
There were no scents here; only the smell of my own body had accompanied me for many hours of travel.
"An endless journey to nowhere... Ow! Why are you hitting me, kid?"
"!:?№%?;№"!:;
Launching into a long speech, the Jawa began pointing toward the merging landscape. The terrible heat, the blue sky, and the ground almost melting under the suns turned into a blurred shimmer through which even I, with my extraordinary endurance, found it hard to pass and look closely.
"There's nothing there..."
"№!:%?*№!%:!"
"You're not making my life any easier," grabbing me by the arm, the Jawa pulled me along, determinedly stomping his little feet and pointing his finger toward the shimmer, "I hope we don't die in the desert... Maybe it's better to wait for night?"
At my words, the shorty got so angry he started jumping in place, pointing now at the ground, now at the sky. I roughly understood what he was trying to convey. Most likely, the local inhabitants become more active at night. I'd never had to wander across the salt flats before, as smart people don't do that, but I knew what might be waiting for us here.
"Holy Liberty... fine, let's go. If we die, I hope it's quick."
And we continued the journey. Hard and long, at least that's how it felt to me. With every meter covered, steps became heavier, and the backpack began to press on my back. I was mercilessly thirsty, but I had to save it until the last moment, so I had to suffer... suffer and endure. Terrible stuff, and it made me more and more irritated.
Closing my eyes, continuing to orient by sound, I recalled other weather conditions where it could have been worse... But the longer I walked, the more I leaned toward the thought that Tatooine was a gruesome planet and even the crazy rulers of Super Earth wouldn't fan the flames of liberty and Democracy here.
I would have kept trudging along to the quiet grumbling of the little Jawa and his hurried little steps until I slammed my face into the steel side of a massive desert machine.
"Ow! Damn it," rubbing my forehead and nose, I tilted my head back, staring with both eyes at the giant Sandcrawler of the Jawas. A mighty machine with a nose tapering upward, standing on two-meter treads, ready to overcome any obstacles in its path. The rusty sides of the steel monster looked powerful and monumental. The Sandcrawler stood proudly in the middle of the desert, and around it scurried little Jawas, shouting excitedly, pointing fingers at me, and chirping something in their native language. "Well, that's news..."
Getting up from the ground, I began to slowly walk around the mighty machine, heading toward the ramp near the nose, which was open and showing its cool interior to the hungry desert. From here, I could get a better look at the thickness of the Sandcrawler's walls, and it became clearer why the Jawas behaved so boldly and arrogantly while traveling across Tatooine. You couldn't shoot through such a behemoth with the toys of local craftsmen. I think only a fighter or a tank could penetrate such thick armor. And the Jawas wouldn't just sit there and wait for you to break inside their sacred transport... No-o-o. The shorties are perfectly capable of defending themselves and have proven more than once to the particularly arrogant what such things entail.
But back to the Sandcrawler itself, or rather that dark passage that had opened like the maw of a monster.
Inside was a true attic of treasures...
Robots or droids, as the locals call them. All sorts and kinds, but mostly ship, construction, and mining droids. Among them were also many assistants and secretaries who probably used to live in the miners' settlements until those very settlements were plundered... and it was far from certain that the desert-dwellers did it.
There were weapons and Tech here. Starting from a measly blaster and a toaster, ending with a naval laser cannon and a speeder. Yes, a real speeder, of which very few remained on our side of the planet. And by local standards, these were incredible riches that could build more than one settlement and flood it with people. You could become a true king of your own little world and do whatever you wanted there... or rather, whatever you managed to do. Because for possessing such things—they'll cut your head off on the first night.
There were also bones and skins of various animals lying around. Many different trophies that had been found or traded by the Jawas in exchange for their own finds.
And the funniest thing was that all of this held the same value for them. Everything obtained with their own hands, dug up, traded, stolen, or "honestly privatized." All these things were unequivocally important.
The only downside to this entire cave of wonders was the smell. No, not just a smell. It was a stench. A gruesome, suffocating stench that made your eyes water and a nasty-tasting saliva pool in your mouth.
As much as everything here could fascinate, it could just as easily repel, for the stench literally permeated every millimeter of the hangar.
Taking a deep breath of the last scraps of clean air, I stepped boldly inside. I'd been doused from head to toe in Terminids guts; what was a little smell of unwashed bodies and sweat... and grease... and oil... and some strange-looking dishes made of cacti, pumpkins, and banthas. And topped off with the ambrosia from the robes. Yeah, Jawas treat all their clothes with special ointments to ward off predators and insects.
Shorty, who had accompanied me the entire way, ran out from the crowd of babbling Jawas and, grabbing my hand again, pulled me deep into the Sandcrawler, constantly saying something.
I had to duck my head, and at one point, we turned away from the main hangar of the mighty machine; through the corridors, I was moving on all fours. I was constantly catching my shoulders and knees on every corner I encountered.
And so, cursing and gaining new bruises, I crawled all the way to the top. And you know what I'll tell you?
If you've never tried to climb to the height of a fourth floor using a ladder from a dollhouse, you won't understand the full depth of my moral and physical pain!
Tired as if I had just crossed the desert all over again, I tumbled into the Sandcrawler's control bridge, where the ceiling finally allowed me to at least sit normally. The cabin, spacious for Jawas, was designed in a maximally minimalistic style and fully reflected its owners.
All the equipment was old and worn. Many parts had been replaced with simple analogs made from whatever was at hand. Sand huddled in the corners and occasionally flew up underfoot, blown by a fan.
Yeah, they had a basic fan standing in the bridge, oscillating from side to side, creating an air current and chasing dust and sand around the room.
Almost all surfaces were lined with metal; here and there lay the favorite weapons of the Jawas—small pikes, slings, and ion-charged blasters intended for use against vehicles.
The shorties themselves were actively walking around and doing things, but every moment I caught their interested glances, especially those directed toward the shorty who continued to pull me by the hand.
We were heading to the very center of the cabin. It wasn't hard to guess, as several seasoned Jawas had gathered there, and most importantly, the Sandcrawler's Captain—or in the Jawa variation, the tribal Chieftain—was standing there. And next to this Chieftain, who differed from the others only by having more diverse gadgets on his load-bearing vest, stood an elderly female representative of his race, holding a carved staff in her hands.
"A Shaman..."
The realization pierced my head. I had heard of them and even seen one from a distance, but to walk right up to one like this? Never. The Jawas, despite their cowardly and non-bellicose nature, were ready to protect her at the cost of their lives, even entering the most hopeless battle.
And the fact that I was brought directly to her spoke volumes. Especially about my traveling companion... though more likely, she was a female companion.
"You're a girl, an apprentice," my whisper was heard by the shorty, and she turned back indignantly, folding her arms across her chest and glaring bellicosely. Her entire posture screamed accusation. "Of course, I realized it right away. No need to make a fool out of me..."
"He-he-he..."
Our strange one-sided bickering elicited a quiet laugh from the Shaman. And that served as a trigger, allowing most of the bridge's inhabitants to relax. Everyone except the Chieftain, who continued to watch my every move intently.
Tapping her staff on the floor, the old Shaman walked toward us, waving her hands lightly to shoo away her kin who got in the way. She walked confidently and quite slowly, completely self-assured.
Standing before me as I sat on my backside in the middle of their bridge...
It sounds like the beginning of a cheap comedy.
...She stood opposite me, then reached for her belt, where she activated some device with a couple of movements.
"The Great Mother of Clan Nym welcomes you, stranger," it turned out that on the Shaman's belt was the disassembled brain of a protocol droid that knew thousands of languages, and next to it hung a speaker through which a rattling mechanical voice was heard. "The Great Mother expresses her gratitude to you for saving her apprentice, who in her foolishness almost perished in the desert..."
At the last statement, the shorty I had saved began to indignantly chatter something to her elder kinswoman, but after receiving a whack on the head with the staff, she instantly quieted down, sitting on her knees. It all looked so comical that I could hardly suppress a smile.
"The Great Mother says that her successor is young and foolish, which is why she constantly gets into such situations. And though the Great Mother is tired of paying for her rescue, she is obligated to thank you..."
Glancing at me suggestively, the old Jawa tilted her head to her shoulder, leaning fully on her staff. The others around fell into a respectful silence, waiting for my answer. They behaved like meerkats, literally turning their heads to follow me while I processed what I had heard.
"Um, okay. Nice to meet you," scratching the back of my head, I took off my goggles, letting them hang on the strap. It was a bit unusual, sitting like this, surrounded by grateful creatures... But even if they weren't Humans, I was still pleased that events had taken such a turn. The first small victory on the way to my goal. "You can drop me off at some settlement."
"The Great Mother is glad that you did not ask for much. And your request will be fulfilled," another pass of the hands, a series of clicks, and the Shaman calmly turned around and went back to her place, while a couple of shorties began pushing me in the back, intending to drive me out of the bridge. A pity; it was many times more pleasant to be here than outside or in the stuffy hangar.
"Yeah, I get it, I get it..."
Brushing off the persistent little creatures, I was already prepared to once again overcome that grim and terrifying path down the toy ladder. At the mere memory, a shiver ran through my body, and I seriously began eyeing the window, through which one could jump and instantly reach the ground. Or even climb onto the roof...
But then, the shorty flew at the two Jawas pushing me, knocking one off his feet and delivering a clip round the ear to the second. Clearly not holding back her expressions, she drove them both away, then beckoned me to follow her, leading me through another door that led to a sort of lift.
"Now that's more civilized... because imitating a snake from an old game again didn't appeal to me at all."
Just a couple of button presses, and I, along with my grateful rescued friend, rushed down... "Rushed," of course, is a strong word, considering we got stuck twice, and the freight lift moved at a speed of a couple of kilometers per hour.
But the main thing was that the journey ended, and I found myself back in the magnificent hangar, full of all sorts of goods. Only this time the doors to the outside were closed, and the entire room inside was lit by a dozen grimy lamps that had sand rattling even inside them.
The lamps were all different, which made the light shimmer in all shades: laboratory white, cozy home yellow, flickering hallway light, red emergency, blue medical, and even a couple from some signs. All this variety made my eyes dazzle, and tears began to well in the corners of my eyelids.
But I wasn't given a chance to catch my breath or come to my senses. Firmly grabbing my hand, the shorty led me deep into the hangar, leading me further to where Speeder were parked behind droids and household appliances. Opening one of them, she nimbly hopped inside, disappearing into the darkness of the covered cabin.
For a few seconds, I stood in the working silence, broken only by the sound of tools hitting metal and the rustling of Jawa robes. Shuffling in place, shifting from heel to toe, I almost thought about going somewhere else—not seriously, of course, but the thought flashed...
And at that moment, the shorty's head popped out of the Speeder. Squeaking indignantly, she beckoned me into the Speeder, inviting me to climb inside.
"You want me to come in?"
A multitude of positive nods was my answer.
"Alright. I hope there won't be any nonsense... Mother Democracy!"
Entering the cabin of the battered Speeder, I was extremely puzzled... to put it mildly. My eyes threatened to pop out of their sockets, and my eyebrows rose in surprise.
The interior of the cabin was in incredible condition, especially for a planet like Tatooine. Yes, perhaps in the Mid Rim or in wealthy worlds, even a hobo wouldn't crawl into such a car, but here...
Fairly clean fabrics covered the windows. The soft hide of some ancient beast was spread on the floor. A multitude of small parts and various mechanisms lay on all surfaces, stuck out from half-open shelves and drawers, and even threatened to fall out of a cabinet...
But that wasn't the most important thing. The coolest and most admirable thing was a huge bed. Well, huge for Jawas, but for a lanky guy like me, just right. I could even stretch my legs out there.
"God, I never thought I'd miss the army bunks from the Cruiser."
Nodding toward the bed, I received permission from the shorty. Waving her hand at me, my little benefactress quickly scrambled out of the cabin, carefully closing it behind her.
"Now this is what I call a real gift." Like an old cat circling a puppy seen for the first time, that's roughly how I looked at this wonder of the world. A mattress that was soft even to the eye. A blanket without marks, holes, or scorches. And even a pillow stuffed with some hides! "Little rascal... you can't forbid living the high life, can you?"
The only thing that spoiled it all was the signature Jawa scent, which I had already gotten used to—at least it no longer caused that stinging in the eyes. Yes, upon first entering the Sandcrawler, I barely managed to keep a straight face, but now the aromas of sweat, oil, local cuisine, and special ointments for robes had become familiar.
Squeezing inside—thankfully the Speeder was spacious enough for me to move around while hunched over.
Settling on the bed, I didn't even have time to think things over or just space out in my thoughts, as I sometimes did before sleep in this new life. Before, I simply didn't have the strength for such things... well, or I would die and be reborn in the morning in a clone's body.
But now, as soon as I put my hand under my head, I immediately fell into a deep sleep, exhausted by the long trek and the events of the last day.
***
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