wChapter 1

/

Waking up on the beach can be a good thing in the right circumstances.

For example, the sound of the ocean crashing against the sand, a nice umbrella blocking the sun from burning your skin, a blanket protecting you from the sand itself, a nice cold drink waiting for you in the cooler and a nice book in your lap…

That is not how I woke up at all.

For one, there was no sound of the ocean as there wasn't an ocean in sight, just sand. Sand as far as the eye can see and then I was sure there was sand beyond that. There was no umbrella to keep the sun off me, in fact, as if to make up for this mistake, the universe has decided to be the opposite of helpful and instead stick another giant fireball in the sky, just for good measure in case I didn't think it was already way too fucking hot. As far as I was aware, there was no blanket. All I had on me were the articles of clothing I was wearing when I went out last night. That is, a nice olive green T-Shirt, a pair of jeans, my grandfathers cross necklace, my phone with a full chargem though no signal damn it, my wallet, and my cowboy boots. No hat, no jacket, no blanket, and most certainly no cold drink waiting for me in the non existent cooler, much less a nice book to pass the time.

Now, of these observations, several things stood out to me besides the blistering heat and the coarse sand. Firstly, the two suns. Last I checked, the earth had a single fireball that it rotated around. Secondly, I don't remember hiking my way into a god forsaken desert.

Groaning at what feels like a hangover, I slowly crawl my way to my feet and unsteadily dust myself off. Where in the hell was I? I don't live anywhere near a desert, and none of my friends are nearly rich enough to send me here. None of them are that cruel either.

Except Jordan. He would do it if he had the money. He's an asshole like that.

That being said, he doesn't, and I'm still here.

Alright, ignoring the second, slightly smaller sun that I must be hallucinating, I start walking. First thing on the agenda, civilization. With civilization comes water and food. Maybe shelter if I'm lucky enough to find a selfless soul.

So I walk.

And trip.

I fucking hate sand.

/

Two hours.

Two fucking hours.

Two hours of walking with nothing to show for it but a sunburn and shoes full of sand.

Still resolutely ignoring the second sun hanging in the sky, I walk. I had already taken off my shirt to wrap it around my head to block some of the sun, leaving my undershirt as the only thing blocking my back from being cooked.

I was thirsty, my headache had yet to subside, I was covered in sweat and sand, I felt like I was going to pass out, and I hated it all

So when I finally saw what looked like a person In the distance sitting atop some sort of animal, I didn't give it any question as I should have. Instead I ran at it.

You know, like an idiot.

Screaming at the top of my sand abused throat, I tried to get its attention, and its attention I did receive.

And I promptly wished I hadn't once I got close enough to see it.

Originally I had assumed the thing he was riding was some sort of truck or tank considering the size. If I was in New Mexico I would have bet on the truck considering the parties I've been to, but as I drew closer, I realized that it was much bigger than I was expecting and covered in fur.

Which, last time I checked, neither tanks nor trucks have.

The rider was a humanoid, but it was familiar in a way only a Star Wars fan would have recognized.

The sand colored clothing, the head wraps, the mouth guard and goggles.

I was running straight at a Tusken Raider.

A Tusken Raider who just pulled out a rifle.

"SHIT!" I yell as I try to stop, Adrenalin pumping through my exhausted body. Unfortunately when you're running, even at the rather wimpy pace I was setting, stopping on a dime and then attempting to change direction on sand was recipe for a fall.

Fortunately, it was at that moment that the Raider decided to shoot, missing me my inches as the bullet hit the ground by my head.

"Jesus!" I shout as I roll to the side and try to get up. Okay, if I run, chances are he'll shoot me. As stupid as it sounds, charging him is my best chance at survival. Maybe I can get his gun or something?

Getting to my feet, I charge the Bantha the Raider was riding, getting just in front of it so he couldn't see me. Roaring in outrage, the Tusken jumps down from his perch and hangs the gun on his back. Drawing his club, the Tusken raised it above his head and seemed to shout out a warning, though I ignored it and charged at him.

"Yeah? Well Fuck you too!" I yell as I duck under his first swing and tackle him to the ground.

Straddling the struggling Sand Person, I knock his club thing from his hand, a gaffi stick if I remembered right, and start choking him.

Normally, I wasn't a violent person. I was the type of guy to apologize to you if you bump into me. I hated conflict most of the time.

However, if someone started something and there was no way to talk it out, I also knew how to defend myself.

In this situation, it was him or me.

I personally like living.

So as I choked him out, the twin suns above me beating against my back, I felt little remorse as he slowly stopped struggling, finally laying still.

Standing up, I fall back and simply sit in the hot sand, the only shade is that of the Bantha beside me.

Shaking my head, I stand up again and pick up the discarded Gaffi Stick and the rifle. Carefully storing them back on the Bantha, I take the dead Raider and I start stripping him.

It's not like he'll need his clothes now.

Putting the clothes on, I quickly realized why the Sand People wore this stuff. It actually cooled me down a little. Not enough to keep me alive for any long period of time, but enough to be noticeable. Glancing around the Bantha to see a water bladder hanging off the saddle.

I would worry about germs when I wasn't in threat of dying.

Guzzling down over half the bottle, I carefully set it back where I found it before wrapping the Tuskens mask around my face, the goggles blocking the sun and the mouth grille keeping sand out of my mouth.

Kicking the sides of the Bantha to get it moving, I grin slightly. We might actually be getting somewhere.

/

It took another hour before we saw civilization.

In that time period I feel as if I had come to terms with the fact that this was in fact not a prank or a dream.

It still didn't prepare me for seeing aliens.

Not that I wasn't expecting the, I had just killed a Tusken Raider and was riding his Bantha towards civilization, but somehow seeing them… seeing the different species…

It made it more real.

There were Rodians like Greedo, there were Humans, there were Dugs, There were Toydarians, and about a dozen other species I couldn't identify.

It was crazy.

Going to the watering hole, I hop off the bantha, making sure to keep my supplies and weapons with me and allowed the Bantha a chance to get something to drink.

Unwrapping the bottom portion of my mask, letting my mouth grille to hang loosely, I glance around at the different aliens staring at me, or more importantly, my getup and the fact that I just showed them what was under a Raiders clothing.

"What? You never seen a Tusken Raider before?" I ask sarcastically as I take another swig of water. Immediately they started to disperse, whispering to themselves along the way.

Okay, first things first. Where the fuck am I? Secondly, when the fuck am I?

Leaving the bottom portion of the mask off, though keeping the top portion on to keep the suns out of my eyes, I start walking through town, leaving the Bantha at the watering hole.

It should be fine.

Walking through town was an experience. For one thing, everyone kept staring at me. For another, aliens.

It would take some time before I got used to it…

The aliens part. I could ignore the stares.

So doing just that, ignoring the stairs, I try to keep an eye out for anything resembling a cantina. If I could find one, I could just hang around and listen in to find out where exactly I was. Finding out when would be a bigger issue, but the where is more important right now.

It took me about fifteen minutes to find the Cantina, unfortunately that was also when I ran into trouble as a big hand reached out of an alley way and grabbed me by the shoulder, yanking me in.

Three beings stood there, each of which a different species, One a devil looking humanoid with red skin and horns, one a big buff dude with a fat chin, though covered in muscle everywhere else, and the third a Dug. It almost sounded like a bad joke.

"Hey, hey, hey… what do we have here?" The devil asks with a smirk on his face.

"It looks like a sand person, Gee." the big guy sayswith a smirk.

"Choy? Sa do sando people do unko?" the Dug laughs.

"Look guys, I'm not looking for trouble..." I grimace as I stand from where I had fallen.

"Well that's too bad, Tusken… Because we are." The Devil, Daveronian I remember, says with an almost evil grin. "We don't really like your kind."

"Yeah! Always causin' us good folks trouble, now we're here to cause you trouble!" The big guy, the Houk from what I remember, said with a laugh.

With that being said, the Dug lunges at me with a growl, his feet aimed at me as if to grab me or kick me, though considering how they walk, I honestly had no idea which one it was.

On the bright side, I had kept the Gaffi stick on me and that Dug was looking like a baseball.

Batting the flying lunatic away from me, I duck under the Daveronians swing and swung my club into his gut, winding him before I tossed him aside. Suddenly, the Houk came from behind and picked my up in a massive bear hug.

"Haha! I gotcha now!"

Swinging my club down as hard as I could, I was greatful the Houk was much taller than me as it kept my own genitals from getting in the crossfire.

"Ugh..." The Houk groaned in pain as he dropped me, hands going to his crotch before I swung the Gaffi Stick as hard as I could against his skull, knocking him out.

Glancing back at the Daveronian, I point the end of the gaffi stick at him.

"Take off your clothes."

"E-Excuse me?" The Daveronian stammers out.

"You heard me, take off your clothes. I'm not walking around in this getup anymore after this, and you're closer to my size than the Houk or the Dug." I explain. "And I'd hurry up, unless you want to know how your friend over there feels personally."

Stripping off his clothes a bit faster after that, I take off the rest of the Raider mask and cloak, leaving me in my shirt, jeans, and boots. Once he had finished, I hit him upside the head with my new favorite stick and gathered up all of their money and weapons.

Leaving me with a nice little stash.

Leaving my jeans on, I take off my own shirt and change into his shirt before putting on his rather nice rust colored jacket. Clipping the Daveronians blaster to the hidden holster in his jacket, the Gaffi stick to my belt, and the Tusken Rifle strapped to my back, I carefully glance out of the alley to make sure nobody was around before I head back towards the cantina.

Let's try this again, shall we?

/

Entering the Cantina was pretty simple, noone asked questions, and most everyone seemed to ignore me. So, sliding up to the bar, I call over the bartender and start asking questions.

"What do ya need, Stranger?" the bartender asks once I call him over. A human it looked like, but looks can be deceiving.

"A nice drink and some information." I reply as I pull out some of the money the I borrowed from the three idiots outside. Passing him the small stack of coins, I raise my eyebrow at him.

Once I get a nod, I continue.

"Where am I? I'm afraid I crash landed out in the middle of the desert after my Nav computer crashed. The Sleemo who sold the thing to me said it was top of the line… Last time I deal with a Daveronian.."

"Mos Espa." the Bartender replied as he took the money and passed me an amber liquid. Well, that was one question answered. Now for the when.

"Anything interesting happening soon? As much as I'd love to get off this dustball, I'm a sucker for some good entertainment." I ask as I take a sip of the drink. Hmm… Alcoholic, but somewhat fruity. Not bad.

"If you like Podracing, the Boonta Eve Classic is in a few days." The Bartender shrugs. "Most everyone's got their bets on Sebulba to win."

"Oh? Who else is in the running?"

"Well, we've got Aldar Beedow, Ratts Tyrell, Mawhonic, Dud Bolt, Clegg Holdfast, Ebe E. Endocott, Gasgano, Boles Roor, Teemto Pagalies, Elan Mak, Mars Guo, Ark 'Bumpy' Roose, Neva Kee, Wan Sandage, Ben Quadinaros, Ody Mandrell, and a kid named Anakin Skywalker. You willing to make a bet?"

If I remember right… This was the one where Ani wins his freedom and leaves Tattooine…

I needed to find them.

But first…

"I'll make a bet on Skywalker winning." I say as I take half of my bag's contents of coins and hand it to the Bartender.

"Hmm… Not bad." He says after counting it. "If Skywalker wins, just come back here to collect your winnings."

"Perfect. Now, last question…" I say as I pass another generous sum over the counter.

"Have you heard anything of a group of offworlders roaming around? Two humans, an astromech, and a gungan?"

/

Looking at the Skywalkers residence, I am struck with a sense of nervousness.

What was I doing? What kind of idiot was I? What exactly was the plan here? Walk up to the door and knock?

Yes, excuse me. Ms. Skywalker, can I talk to Mr. Jedi? Oh yes, Mr. Jedi! I know the future despite the fact that every Jedi on the Council is having issues with that particular trick!

Yeah… that would go well.

No, what I needed was a token of gratitude or to just follow them at a distance. The second option not being that smart an idea.

So a token of some sort. Maybe a new ship? I'd have to make a few bets… Perhaps I can free Shmi? Again with the bets, but I could probably make a few bets for cash and then use the money as something to bet against when betting for Shmi.

I'd have to make it look good, maybe sweeten the deal to get Watto on board. In the end though, I know the outcome, so I'd be making a decent profit if I played my cards right.

Nodding, I turn to head back to the Cantina. Maybe they know where I can find a good nights sleep before the big race?

Then I walked into a wall of muscle.

Looking up, I see the Houk from earlier.

To his left was the Dug and to his right was the Daveronian.

"Umm… Hey guys? Nice meeting you here..."

"You done messed up." The Houk growls as he grabs me by my collar, lifting me into the air.

"Look… guys, in my defense, you were the ones who assaulted me. I was just defending myself." I try to explain as the Houk dragged me behind one of the wells before throwing me on the ground.

Pointing a blaster at me, the Daveronian gestures for the Dug to grab my weapons.

"Shut up, offworlder. You took our clothes, our money, and our weapons. Now we're intent on getting it back… with interest."

"Umm… I kind of used most of it?" I shrug as I prop myself up where I was thrown.

"HOW DO YOU- It's fine… we're okay… Just let it out, Gee." the Daveronian starts before attempting to calm himself down. After a few moments, he points the gun at my head. "Well… considering you spent our money, we'll just take it out of your head?"

"Wait!" I yell, covering my face with my hands. "How about a bet?"

"Excuse me?" The Daveronian, Gee, asks as he lowers the blaster slightly.

"The Boonta Eve Classic." I explain as I slowly scoot myself back. "If you win the bet, you get to take me in front of the Hutts and put me on trial or whatever you deem fit. Killing me, selling me, whatever. If I win the bet, you guys let me off the hook. Sounds good?"

"An interesting offer, I admit." Gee says before aiming the blaster at my head again. "But what's to stop us from killing you now?"

"Because I bet Sebulba won't even finish the race." I grin.

"You're crazy. Sebulba's won every race since he's started on Malastare." the Houk laughs.

"Then you won't mind me raising the stakes." I counter. "I assume you have a ship between the three of you?"

At the nod I continue.

"If Sebulba finishes the race, I'll find you the money I took from you and then some. After that, if you feel like it isn't enough, you can do whatever you want with me. If Sebulba doesn't finish… You let me off the hook and give me your ship."

After a moment of them staring at me like I was crazy, both the Dug and the Houk glance at each other before they burst out laughing.

"I admit, you've got spunk… I hate spunk." Gee sighs. "Fiiiine. It's a bet. If we win, you are our personal slave. If you win, you get our ship. Greb, give our friend his weapons back."

Nodding, the Houk tosses the Gaffi Stick and my rifle at me where I catch them uncerimoniously.

"Umm… before you guys go, can I have a holo image of your ship? Just so I know what I may lose?"

With a smirk, the Devil lookalike pulls a holo unit from his pocket and tosses it at me. Pressing the button reveals a decently sized freighter.

"The YV-666. The Devil's Dagger." The Horned alien laughs before he starts walking away. "Keep the holo, maybe it will give you some hope before you lose."

Well… I found my down payment with Watto.

I just wished I didn't have to deal with the Three Stooges to get it.

/

Okay… so a while back I had started a story similar to this. I ended up deleting it due to my own issues with the story. This is my second attempt at this story but this time it will be different.

Give me thoughts and stuff.

Next Chapter. Betting with Watto. The Boonta Eve Classic. Maul.

Ye.

Adios!

The Nameless Scribe