GILLEM
He had ridden across the sands for some time, following the trail as best as he could. The wind had picked up covering spots, making it harder to track. His journey started just before dawn, it was now pushing high noon before something caught his eye.
“What the hell?”
He stopped the bike and grabbed his binos training the lenses on the strange figure ahead. A brown smudge laying a stark contrast in the bright sands. He noticed a horn as he zoomed in, then a saddle and bridle. He recognized it as one of the banthas he helped Dash corral back into the pens. He sat back in the seat planting his feet and boosted once more to the figure.
As soon as he drew close he stomped the brake pulling the bike to the side stopping close to the bantha.
Dead…
And no sign of Dash. The winds had whipped around now to the point of covering most tracks as he checked the corpse of the creature. Dash had packed food, and water for himself. No extra clothes, and most of his ammo was still in the saddle bag.
The kid only had six shots left with him after he picked up the forty two .48 caliber bullets, stuffing them into his side bag.
“You damn fool.”
He didn’t know if he was talking to himself or planning what he was going to tell Dash when…
…If he found him.
The deserts of tattoine were vast. And he could not have gotten far on foot. Thats then he noticed it.
Tread tracks. Very recognizable tread tracks.
Jawas had been here not too long ago, and these tracks were fresher. They might have had an idea on what happened with Dash, but Gillem already knew what happened. The bantha had been shot with rifle fire numerous times to be brought down, the boy wasn’t able to get out a single shot. Raiders ambushed him. Whether they were tuskan or not he did not know, but it made sense, since he was looking for them.
He sat by the bantha that had long been dead for a good while now. At least six hours, and gently laid his mechanical hand on its fur.
“I’m sure you tried to protect him while you could.”
He gently stood up and placed a shell casing from his ammo stash on the creature's shoulder, gently patting it.
“Rest easy big guy, I’ll take it from here.”
He lit another cigarette on his lips, inhaling deeps as he scanned the horizon. The heat rays casted from the sun heated up the sand causing wavy mirages that danced all around him. His eye highlighted the tread tracks leading west of where he was standing.
“There ya are.”
He mounted back on his speeder bike and tailed after them. Setting his body low so the speeder could run faster. He chased after them until evening fell. The treads leading into a small town just ahead. No doubt to oversell junked steroids to suckers who didn’t know better. He pulled out his binos and glassed over the small town. Sure enough, the jawas were there. Droids lined up and bargains already flying.
He arrived into the outskirts of town, parking his speeder and dismounting. Slowly he walked towards the jawas who were already murmuring to each other.
“A new one comes!”
“Hurry hurry, get something good for him.”
He knew what they were saying. “Something good for him” only meant the finest of junk that he would not care for, bargained at such a price most could not resist. He stopped before them as they began to pull out a small box towards him.
“Nah nah, that's not necessary.”
The jawas stopped and looked at him curiously.
“I’m looking for someone. Rodian, about twelve or thirteen years old. Ye high, wandering the desert on a bantha?”
The jawas looked at each other and murmured, nodding to one another.
“This way, this way.”
One waved him over into their vehicle and he walked behind them, following at a closer but reasonable distance. Jawa were crafty, he never trusted them though he had no ill will to them. They were just getting by like everyone else.
They stopped and he did too behind them. They pointed at a screen. A recording they had from a distance of the bantha being shot at as Dash tried to take cover behind it. The bantha stood in front of the child as tuskan raiders drew closer putting the poor creature down. They had grabbed Dash and were hauling him away before the feed cut.
“Just like that? What is it you want? Nothing is free with jawas.”
They looked at each other then back at Gillem.
“We want something of ours back.”
Gillem let out a sigh.
“Alright I’ll bite. What is it?”
They walked him deeper into the vehicle where. Strung up junk and droid parts littered every inch of the place before they stopped and pointed at a low power core for their ship.
“How did they swindle that from you?”
They did not answer, either from embarrassment or something else but Gillem nodded.
“Very well. One power core. Now where did they take the boy?”
The jawas looked at him.
“We don’t know. But we suspect a nearby town does, more specifically a junker who works with them. We left our core to charge with him and he lent us this faulty core.”
The jawa kicked the core causing it to shift, and sparks flew.
“A gran, Very well known around here. Very sneaky bastard.”
Gillem’s eyes glared.
“And this gran knows where Dash would be?”
The jawas did not answer. Instead one pressed the box into his hands.
“As for good faith, we gift you this. It’ll suit you better than us.”
Gillem looked at the box and slowly opened it. Inside was his other revolver. Dash had likely dropped it while they took him, and the jawas picked it up to get a good deal. The star inlay’s gold sheen reflected over his face, the wood grip felt like home in his hand and the weight was just another appendage to him. He slowly holstered it into the empty holster over his hip.
“You got a deal then. It’ll be done.”
He turned around back to exit the ship, slowly making his way out and walked past the droids up for show and the many people yelling to make bargains.
He could have just gone back to his small home, his small living and his small life. But he could not just leave some kid to fend for himself against raiders. There was a fire in his chest as the images of the recording replayed in his head.
Many were gonna die when he found them. He could feel it.
He mounted back on his speeder and started heading straight back to the town it had all started in.
He had traveled throughout the night before he reached the small town stepping off his bike in front of the junkyard office door. Already people started huddling around him to see what was going on and why some man came screaming into town on a speeder bike like a bat outta hell. He looked at them.
“Clear off. Official business.”
He spoke direct and with an authority that caused most to back away instantly. He had not used that voice in a few years. The voice of authority. And the voice that was followed by something less elegant, and not by far.
He stepped into the office, his boots tapping on the floor and the jingle of his spurs rang quietly in the air. He stopped in front of the desk where no one was standing. He looked at the bell on the desk and scoffed. Quickly he picked it up and chucked it hard into the doorway just past the desk with a loud clang.
“Get out here, now!”
The gran’s head poked from behind the doorframe, yes wide.
“Oh…uh…It’s you, the gunslinger! How are you, my friend?”
Gillem glared at him, causing the gran to silence.
“Cut the chit. Where is he?”
The gran looked around confused.
“...Who?”
His voice came out high, pathetic. Sweat beaded over his brow as Gillem walked around the desk and walked straight to him, eyes glaring deep into his.
“Customers aren’t allowed past the-”
Gillem’s mechanical hand shot up clasping over his mouth as the gram let out a surprised yelp followed by shaky breaths.
“You know damn well who I am talking about. Give me your ledgers. Now!”
The gran quickly fumbled through his shelves pulling out a datapad and quickly handing it to him. Gillem slowly took it and shoved him back into a chair. He then leaned back on his counter, legs crossed in a relaxed position as he thumbed through the files.
Most of what he saw were price gouged sales from his junkyard and low ball offer transactions that had been completed. Something else caught his eye. A locked file. Gilem’s glare found the grans wide eyes as his mechanical finger dispensed a small slicing device. Good for low security locks. After a quick moment, the secure folder unlocked. Gillem looked over the files.
Transactions…
His grip tightened around the screen, the mechanical hand cracking the screen.
Transactions of names…people…People he had bought and sold…
Two names came up that caused him to throw the datapad at the wall.
Dash and Lorellia Eckon. For thirty five thousand credits.
He quickly drew his revolver pointing it right at the gran’s knees.
“Where is Dash and Lorellia?! You have three seconds to answer!”
A click of the hammer as he pulled it back.
click
…1
Another pull past half cock.
click
…2
“Alright! Alright!”
Gillem relaxed the hammer.
“They took him north! Theres a whole cave of them! A trade that happens with them, we do transactions and I send them their way for pickup and delivery! It pays good!”
Gillem’s grip tightened on his revolver, the barrel shaking.
There is no heroics, theres no triumphant stand.
The words, His words echoed in his head.
Theres only the moment.
His finger tightened on the trigger before a shine caught his eye. The shine of a star, glinting in the sun. He slowly picked it up and looked it over. His Star. His oath.
He slowly walked past the gran and to the star. Slowly picking it up.
“Theres only the moment.”
He quietly mumbled to himself.
He then looked at the gran and tossed him his cuffs.
“Put'em on. We're going for a ride, and you're my gps.”
He looked back at the star in his hand then clicked it onto his belt buckle.
“Just no rest for the wicked I guess.”
He grabbed the gran by his shirt collar and shoved him out of the building, watching him collapse to the sand.
“What are you gonna do?!”
Gillem didn't acknowledge him as he pulled a thermal detonator out of his coat, arming it and then tossed it into the office.
“You're not coming back here.”
He walked up to him as the beeping started going quicker then shoved him on his bike. He revved it up a few times and peeled out of range before the detonator exploded, the building swallowed up in a blaze of fire that would put any bonfire to shame on this planet.
With his new guest, he was finally on his way for Dash and his mother. The sobs and pleas of the gran fell on deaf ears as he rode through the desert once again.
“Don't kill me! I have information! Information on the Black Sun! Those tuskans have deep ties you're meddling in something you can't ever control!”
Gillem looked back at him.
“I'm just here for the boy and his mother. The Black Sun ain't on my radar.”
His mechanical hand flew back and smacked the gran’s face.
“Now shut up and direct, before you start missing joints.”
