It's coarse, rough, irritating, and gets everywhere. (Open)

[Nam Keeoh]

It's coarse, rough, irritating, and gets everywhere. ​

​

​

Part I - The Crash​

​

​

​

The sand seemed to stretch out for endless miles on all sides of her. Whether it was flat or rose into small mountains, it didn't matter. She had no supplies whatsoever, and soon she would starve under the heat of the twin suns. She trudged on, one foot after another, crossing the sand dunes, some even larger than some skyscrapers in Courascaunt.

It had been bad luck that she came here. Since her old LL-1400 scoutship was destroyed, she snuck onboard a modernized Corellian corvette heading for Alderaan. Only instead, it had been intercepted and ambushed by pirates over Tatooine.

She had managed to take an escape pod out before the corvette blew up. But everyone else was not so lucky. The pirates weren't dumb, and had been searching for her for hours. But she was so hopelessly lost that they couldn't track her.

At this point, the sand in her boots was so much that it almost filled the boots completely. She knew shaking them off would only lead to more sand coming, and she had no time to make a sand Star Destroyer.

After all, a sandstorm was approaching. She needed shelter, and fast. Otherwise, she knew she would be blinded. Even the Tusken Raiders avoided this area, and it made the place seem a lot more dangerous.

 

[Xiarr Sair]

Sand. Sand as far the eye could see. No animals, no vegetation, and no shelter. Just an endless sea of sandy dunes and fields. Xiarr had no idea how he got there, all he could remember was a few blurry images of what he assumed was pirates. He patted himself to find anything he could use. He found his lightsaber, but everything else he had brought with him was gone, including his credits. For whatever reason, his thieves decided to not take his lightsaber, how convenient

It seemed that there was a sandstorm brewing, he needed to find some shelter soon, but finding something or even someone out here was very unlikely. That was until he started to sense a presence, a fairly weak one at that, but noticeable. Maybe this person could lead him to shelter, or really anything would suffice at that point.

Xiarr made his way toward the presence, barely managing to stand up straight. As he marched on the, he could feel the presence getting closer and closer until finally, he could see a humanoid figure. Was he finally saved, or would this be his doom?

[member="Nam Keeoh"]

 

[Prostices Elmnar]

Elm rolled on to her side. Sand was in all her armor joints, and some was on her face. Her helmet was a few feet away, as was her rifle. As her eyes adjusted to twin suns glaring down blinding amounts of light, and with that rediculous amounts of heat, she felt for her knife, which was safely tucked away in it's sheath. Groaning she stood, only to fall back to the ground. Her rib cage hurt like hell, and when she pushed a hand near it, she felt bone movement. A broken rib in the middle of the dessert. How wonderful. Not one to show pain often, Elm instead glanced around, seeing a figure on the distance, the wreck of her escape pod and the other passenger, who had a pole through their chest. Definitely dead. Elm continued to look around seeing a figure, wearing robes approaching the first figure. Elm attempted to call for help, as one of them must've been not tusken, but it came out as a loud moan, almost a scream.
[member="Xiarr Sair"][member="Nam Keeoh"]

 

[Nam Keeoh]

She looked back for a moment and saw some figures walk by near her. She decided to stand still and wait for the figures to come. She put her hoodie on and gripped her blaster just in case. She just hoped that sand hadn't gotten in there too.

As Xiarr walked close enough for her to see most of his body features, he heard a moan from nearby, but ignored it. It's not like any Tuskens wanted to run into the middle of a sandstorm. "Hello. Some help?" she said a bit louder than she needed to.

As she walked slightly closer to Xiarr, she sensed something. The sandstorm was close. She ran to her left, hid behind a nearby sand dune about 100 feet tall, and started burrowing a little cave inside. It was just big enough to fit her sitting down when the storm hit.

[member="Xiarr Sair"] | [member="Prostices Elmnar"]

 

[Jaegis Volasses]

The Imperial Remnant Captain could barely see through the glass before him.

This was a reconnaissance mission for Imperial Intelligence. To Tattooine. Under the cover of a massive sandstorm. With only a handful of life support machines in the worst case.

The Imperial Remnant Armoured Transport rolled on sand and through walls of yellow that was the wind and the dust of the desert. Thermal technology was the only thing keeping them on track in this completely barren wasteland; it would pick up any signs of heat from the outside, particular that generated by the twin suns, and use it to locate which way was north, south, east and west. And if the situation approached, it would pick up signs of life, though Jaegis knew that was impossible out here.

Then they ran over the first of the shrapnel.

Exterior cameras revealed that there was rubble and Dura steel plates left from a nearby crash. And judging by the looks of the thermal imaging, it was red hot; it hadn't long entered the atmosphere.

The scanners soon picked up signs of life, on the edges of the sandstorm, as it was only so close to reaching their positions. The better half of Jaegis Volasses' conscious kicked in, and he commanded his unit to direct their AT's movement towards the site of the thermal imaging. There were survivors, and a handful of them.

Before the sandstorm did hit, the Imperial Remnant transport arrived by the survivors, and the grey haired and silver eyed Echani captain leapt out of the transport accompanied by two fully Armoured Sandtroopers.

These soldiers would help the Captain bring the three survivors onto the craft before the sandstorm hit. Each Stormtrooper was careful and calm on assisting those wounded to the ship, even carrying one who appeared to have had a broken rib. They had found one of the survivors hidden in a small cave they had carved with their bare hands in the sand to hide in safety. There was no time to discuss their options; the sandstorm was so close, and Jaegis had to cover his eyes with his hands and hat to ensure the sand didn't blind him.

And soon, the transport was rolling again, with three new passengers; a beautiful Twi-lek, a hooded, and Jaegis suspected, Force wielding Jedi, and a wounded soldier who bore Imperial-inspired armour. Whether she was with the Remnant, The First Order, Dominion or otherwise was beyond him until they began discussion.

As the three of them were inspected by an IR medic in the carrier's cargo bay, Captain Volasses entered, standing tall with his arms behind his back. He looked grim faced, but he was grateful they hadn't died out there.

"Captain Jaegis Volasses of the Imperial Remnant's 705th Stormtrooper Company. We found you on thermal imaging and couldn't leave you to die out there." As he spoke, the sound of the whirring sandstorm outside the vehicle battered against the Durasteel frame of the AT, but it held steadfast. "We encountered wreckage from a ship as we passed by. What's happened?" He sounded genuinely concerned, and sat by on a crate as the Field Medic checked the broken rib of the Armoured troop.

[member="Nam Keeoh"] [member="Prostices Elmnar"] [member="Xiarr Sair"]

 

[Prostices Elmnar]

On the transport, Elm was payed down on one of the med bay's beds, and she didn't see what happened to her helmet and rifle. All she knew wa that she and three others had been picked up by imperials. Now they were being asked what happened. Keeping her rib as till as possible, elm managed to sputter out one word:
"Pirates"

[member="Jaegis Volasses"][member="Nam Keeoh"][member="Xiarr Sair"]

 

[Xiarr Sair]

As Xiarr moved on, he heard groaning from somewhere not to far away, but he kept on moving toward the figure. He could start to make out some features, it was a hooded humanoid that appeared to have blue skin, either it was a Tw'lek, or his eyes were messing with him. The Tw'lek called for some help, but then she quickly ran away afterward. The sandstorm was likely getting closer, and Xiarr knew him was going to die out here. But before he could find some form of shelter, he fell to his knees and his world faded away.

Xiarr awoke to a durasteel ceiling and the sound of distant clanking and harsh winds. Xiarr looked to his side to see two others, both female, he recognized the Tw'lek but hadn't seen the other one before. Someone then walked into a room and asked them as to what happened. One of them responded by just saying pirates, and it was the most likely scenario as to why they were out there. Xiarr just remained quiet, observing their current situation.

[member="Prostices Elmnar"]
[member="Jaegis Volasses"]
[member="Nam Keeoh"]

 

[Nam Keeoh]

She was in the armored transport, inside a room she had randomly chosen to stay in. She wasn't sure whether her saviors were friendly or not, but even if they were, how would she explain where to go? She didn't even have a home. She knew that the other person had gotten on, and there had been a third too. Hopefully they wouldn't be too much of a threat either.

So, with no clue where they were going, she waited. Hopefully they would get to some sort of shuttle or spacecraft, or at least a town. Anything but being left in those sand dune hills. Even if there was an oasis out there, it wouldn't last too long in these conditions. She was surprised that the crew of the transport seemed calm and well.

[member="Xiarr Sair"] | [member="Prostices Elmnar"] | [member="Jaegis Volasses"]

 

[John Trenway]

"Keep lookin' for 'em, boys! A little sand never killed someone."

Long John Trenway was currently combing through a rather obscure part of the Dune Sea with a motley group of pirates he had signed up with last minute. The seasoned pirate wasn't new to this kind of work, although he could hardly see what the point of hunting down a few survivors was. It wasn't as if they would have any loot on them. Nothing worth taking, anyways. In Trenway's experience, it was better to just let the survivors be. With the pirates he sailed under years ago, it was actually part of their code:

He who strikes down an unarmed survivor shall be marooned or shot.

Yet here he was. Long John was sailing under a cap'n who didn't have the courtesy to pay up front, didn't have qualms upon firing on escape pods, and didn't mind sending his men, without the pleasure of his company, of course, to scour the dunes to find and finish the job. John sighed aloud. He remembered a time when pirates actually had decency and weren't savages that just pillaged and put all to the sword. If his ship weren't impounded, he'd be running things a lot differently, but dire times called for dire measures. It didn't mean he had to be happy about it, however.

Trenway turned his head to look behind him. The pirates were scattered about, and what looked like a sandstorm was rapidly coming near. It would be too easy to slip away and make his way to a nearby settlement, where the old scallywag could rest his head for a night or two and find transportation to the impound docks upon Tydoria. Besides, the fearsome-yet soft-hearted man was going to abandon ship sooner or later. It seemed sooner was now the time to do so.

With another quick glance behind him to make sure he wasn't being tailed (much to the discontent of his stiff neck) John made his way down a sand dune, blocking him from the view of the other pirates. Without a second thought, he walked off and wandered for a bit. Tusken Raiders wouldn't be a problem (with his mechanical limbs, they'd probably revere him as a god or some other nonsense). It was the lack of civilization for miles around that concerned him. But it seemed fate was smiling upon the crusty pirate. In the distance, John could make out some sort of transport rolling through the sand. The pirate smiled wickedly. With his outstanding charm and bolstering charisma, he'd find refuge in no time at all.

Trenway trudged his way through whipping blasts of sand to the vehicle, calling out, his booming voice hardly heard above the wind.

"'Ello! Spare a lost and weary traveler some shelter, friends!"

If there was anyone outside, which was unlikely, they might've heard him. If not, perhaps the transport, which looked much more advanced than it appeared in the distance, would have some sort of audio or thermal scanners that could pick up the pirate-playing-lost and allow him entry.

[member="Nam Keeoh"] [member="Xiarr Sair"] [member="Prostices Elmnar"] [member="Jaegis Volasses"]