The Awakening…

Was I dead or in a state of euphoria? The fogginess in my head prevented me from making sense of it all. I felt weak and nauseous.  It was a feeling similar to that of awakening in a Cloning Center after getting ambushed by some Tuskin Raiders or shreaded to pieces by a Krayt Dragon. But this was strangely different somehow. I slowly pulled myself up off the cold, bare floor. I could hear beeping and whirling sounds echoing around me. With blurred vision, I searched the room until my eyes finally came into focus on where the noises were coming from. There in the dark, I could make out the glowing, greenish light of what appeared to be a travel terminal.

My head was clearing and my eyes adjusted to the low light of the empty room. After a couple of deep breaths, I stumbled towards the terminal. Walking was more of a struggle than I had anticipated. I felt as though I was a new born, taking its very first steps. The terminals odd noises echoed down the metallic corridor and in my head as I leaned against the machine for support.

“Where was I going?” I questioned myself. I felt as if there was someplace I needed to be, but I just could not remember. Instead of wasting my precious energy to remember my past, I focused on the present.

“I need time to figure everything out,” I spoke aloud. “A fresh start… That’s what I need.”

To further keep my identity secret, I had to change my name as well. Fueller popped into my head immediately. He was a great Architect from the Bloodfin days. Where resources were scarce and demand was high. With that settled, I peered over the terminal data screen.  The terminal controls seemed a bit crude, but I was able to decipher some of the destinations. Scanning the list, I found exactly where I needed to go. It was a place that I could easily blend in and not be asked too many questions. None other than… Mos Eisley.

The End…

To my good fortune, I was able to settle into a nice quiet spot on Lok to enjoy my favorite past-time, fishing. My data pad chirped several times as I was pulling in fish after fish. This spot was not only peaceful, but seemed fertile with hungry fish as well. The chirping soon became a nuisance and I finally pulled it out of my backpack. Much to my surprise, it was a hologram message from my sister Camaro.

 “Hurst, I beg for your forgiveness for what I am about to do. The mayor has aligned the city for Rebel Fraction and I can no longer reside in Lianorm, nor can I stand by as the battles are raging near. I must go with my Imperial Legion off to Talus to assist the troops there.  My time with you has been wonderful and I ask that you not try and find me. The Imperial Troops will not show mercy upon a Rebel Officer.”

 I stood up and my jaw dropped in disbelief. Why is this happening? What is going on? Tears filled my eyes as the holographic image of Camaro continued on.

 “My advice for you is to seek refuge somewhere safe. The planets are engulfed in an all out war and I fear for your safety. You have been my strength and inspiration. Farewell my brother, until we meet again.”

 The image faded and I could feel a rage inside of me. This can’t be happening. I hit reply on my data pad but the reply was null. She was gone.

 I tossed aside all of my gear and hopped onto my Swoop to get to the Starport. Regardless of her pleas, I was going to find her and we would both flee somewhere safe. My mind raced with fears as I cut across Loks’ desert surface.

 I popped over the hill near the Starport in Nym’s Stronghold to be greeted by a sea of Storm Troopers. I quickly maneuvered my swoop out of their laser blasts. My only way off the planet was cut off. I needed to find another way… and quick.

 Not paying attention to where I was going, I scanned the horizon for another city. One from where I can travel from to Lianorm. I needed to get home…

 The engine from my swoop seemingly raced hard and sounded louder than normal. A quick look indicated why, it had been hit with a laser blast. My good fortune of the day turned into sheer horror as Tie-Fighters appeared on the horizon. I was now an easy target from the sky, my sparking and smoking swoop was a dead giveaway. I pushed on. I was now looking for a place to hide instead of a place to travel from. The flat lands of Lok yielded nothing to my frantic scan of the areas around me. I was going to survive, no matter what.

 A deafening sound and a subsequent spray of dirt pelted my body as laser blasts erupted around me from the sky. I laughed at the Troopers ill fated aim. My rage and fear turned into utter madness as I ducked each blast around me. Over my laughter I heard a loud metallic explosion. I quickly looked over my right shoulder to see a Tie-Fighter slam into the desert landscape. I shot my glance over my left shoulder to see a squadron of Rebels flying in.

 “Take that you metallic morons!” I screamed insanely. Little did I know, but that was going to be my last words as a laser blast directly hit my swoop. I felt myself being thrown into the hot sand. My body skipped across the ground like a rag doll.

 I seemed to slip in and out of consciousness. I felt numb and cold, even under the scorching Lokian sun.

 “We are losing him!” I heard a voice say. The voice was joined by others, but they were distant and faint. I could make out bits and pieces of the conversations. Things like “Area Secure” and “Medic” was all I could decipher.

 “Send out his DNA. He will be safe there” yet another voice said frantically.

 “Incoming! Take your positions!”

 I could hear screams and laser fire surround me, but I was unable to move or see what was happening. Then, I felt even more pain then what I was already in as everything went black and cold. But as I was fading, a voice gave me hope…

 “He has been liberated.”

Sand Storm…

The twin suns were setting as I set up my camp outside of the Pika Oasis. My data pad was chirping with a message, “Submissions Due Today.” Only then did I realize that I was late to send off an article to the Lianorm Telegraph office. After gathering my thoughts and some data, I quickly started pounding out the fishing article for the upcoming issue. My thoughts wondered as I viewed a herd of Dewbacks heading south, seemingly at a faster pace than normal. I stood up to stretch my legs when I noticed just why they were heading south in a hurry.
Off in the distance, a rogue sand storm was on the horizon, darkening the sky and engulfing everything in its path. The rumbling it made as it came across the horizon was almost deafening and the ground began to tremble. I kept searching the horizon as I tried to finish, knowing that I needed to send it out before the storm hit. Storms of this magnitude usually render my data pad useless to send out anything. The wind and sand were starting to pick up as I saw a shadowy figure of a man approach my site. Frantic, I quickly finished up the article and sent it off before I was dealt with the full brunt of the storm. I was picking up the last few items around the camp when I heard a voice off in the distance.
“May I take refuge in your camp?”
Looking back onto the horizon, I knew it was only a matter of a few minutes before the storm ripped through the area. This man would not survive it.
“Yes you may. But please hurry”
After getting my gear stored, I found a glow stick and ignited it to provide some light. The man ducked into my domed camp and I closed the door behind him. He wore a hooded cloak, much like that of a Jedi or two I have met in my travels. I could not see his face, but the cloak was old, worn and tattered from obvious constant use. His hands were exposed and seemed frail and aged.
“Hands of hard working man”, I thought to myself.
After I checked the seal on the door, I took a seat across from him. He sat, with hands grasped together and head hung low. We sat in silence for a few minutes as I could hear the sand storm pelting my camp.
“I am much obliged,” he finally said in an elderly voice, “It was my good fortune that I came across your site.”
“Yes it was,” I replied.
“Tell me, what brings you out here to this desolate tract?”
“Fishing,” I answered, sorting through my supplies to find some Durni Jerky. “The fish meat here on Tatooine is of good quality and potential energy. I was helping a friend that is in need of some to create synthetic bait.”
I offered a slice of Durni Jerky to him. He accepted it without raising his head.
“And you?” I asked, wondering why an old man would be wandering the desert.
He took a moment and cleared his throat before he spoke.
“I have been everywhere my friend. I have seen the waterfalls of Naboo, Nym’s Stronghold, the deep woods of Kashyyyk, the Lava Rivers of Mustafar and every point of interest in between. I have enjoyed the beauty that this galaxy holds for me, from ground and space, even though I dislike space travel.”
“I have been in many a battle across all of these worlds, and I have seen many die for their cause.” he continued, “I have harvested resources, built homes, furniture, weapons, manufactured food and clothing for many people for a fair price. I have been comforted by flamboyant entertainers that wanted nothing more than to play an instrument or to dance away the woes of many a weary soldier.
I have taken on and destroyed several powerful monsters and foes, with groups of like minded individuals, without which I alone would have failed. I have seen hundreds of cities rise up and populate the planets, like the purple flowers of Dantooine. I have encountered loveable Ewoks, hunted in the fields of Corellia and have had several pets along my side.
I have done all of these things and more, never realizing the ultimate fate that will come.”
Bewildered, I asked. “Ultimate Fate?”
“Yes”
“I don’t understand,” I said, with a mouth full of jerky. “All I was asking was why you were out here in the desert all alone. Not all this mumbo-jumbo about your travels.”

The man slowly raised his head and pulled his hood off of his face. His hair was glistening white, his eyes a steely blue. His face was aged and showed signs that he had been in the Tatooine sun too long. I could not look away from him as he seemed to read the expression of fascination on my face. As I stared at him in silence, the brutal sand storm outside seemed to subside. He tucked his piece of jerky into his cloak and at a glance; I thought I caught a glimpse of a light saber.

“Thank you for your hospitality my friend,” he said standing up, heading for the door, “I must be going.”
“But you didn’t answer my question?”
A small smile came across his weathered face, “I am here to remind you of things you have seen and of your accomplishments over these past years.”

“Wait a minute,” I pleaded, still confused over his words, “Who are you?”

He opened the door and stepped outside. “I am you.” And the door closed.

I quickly jumped up to meet him outside, but he was gone. I grabbed a pair of binoculars and combed the landscape, but nothing. He had vanished into the Tatooine sunset. Everything was calm and quiet. As if no storm had ever pasted through. I whirled around as I heard a splashing noise, to see nothing but fish jumping in the nearby oasis.

Still bewildered, I gathered my pole and bait, and then proceeded down to the waters edge. I have seen many wonders and have accomplished much. This mysterious old man seemed to have given me a dose of unfortunate reality. The fate is near, but for now… I will fish.

Endorian Excitement…

 Utchi (U-tee-Chee) is an Ewokian guide I ran across several years ago while exploring the planet. He has always shown me those “Special” fishing locations and has been a great friend. He would always find my camp with his keen senses. Usually, when he would catch up with me, we would share stories. My stories were always about my galactic adventures, encounters or the city. But his stories were always the same. It was always about an Elusive Gigantic Fish somewhere on Endor. This fish was believed to have been a mutated Nubian Gooberfish that was smuggled in by a scientist from Kashyyyk. This so called “Gooberfish” grew fifty times its normal size, due to the lush Endorian environment and scientific mutation effects. These stories were passed down from generation to generation. These stories intrigued him as a cub and I had always chuckled inside as he told them. He was very passionate about telling them and told them as if he had seen this ugly, mutated beast of a fish with his own eyes.

 On my last trip to Endor, stories were the least of our worries however. As I fished off a bank, I heard some rustling in my camp some 25 meters away. I wedged my fishing pole into its cradle and headed up towards my camp. There I found a frantic Utchi, rummaging through all my supplies and squeaking in an Endorian dialectic that I had never heard. I desperately tried to understand it, but it didn’t seem to make sense to me. Sounded like something swallowed a green spirit… Huh?!

  “Utchi!” I screamed. As I approached my tent, I cringed as I watched a chair fly out of the door. No response. I slowly pulled the door flap back to get a look inside. Who knew what else was coming out of that flap at 60 plus kph. There, I saw Utchi crouching down looking at a leg piece to my sleeping cot.

 “Utchi!,” I repeated, a bit more softer. Startled, he whipped his head up to me and pointed the cot leg towards me as if he was going to stab me with it. He had a wild look in his eyes and he started gibbering again. I was able to dissect some of his excited and frantic conversation with me.

 It seems that he had mistakenly used his lucky gem as a rock in his sling shot, when he was hunting a Mantigrue. And the Mantigrue actually caught and ate the gem. He was hunting the creature for some wooly hide that he needed for his family. The green gem was from his deceased Father, a great, ancient Ewokian Hunter from his tribe. He always had the gem with him when he hunted. He felt that the gem held his fathers’ sacred spirit and good fortune within it. Now everything started to make sense. He wanted help to hunt this creature down.

  “Give me a sec,” I said surveying my now destroyed tent. “Let me find my pistol Utchi and we will get that gem back.”

  Pistol in hand, he lead me to the area of the Mantigrue.

“Utchi,” I said in a puzzled voice, counting the birds with my pistol.  “They all look the same to me. Which one is it?”

A Mantigrue was a Mantigrue to me. There was at least 4 of them hovering around a nest. But Utchi knew. He stuck his nose in the air and gave a couple of good sniffs, then pointed to the one that was flying a little lower than the others with a frayed wing.

 “Okay, here we go’” I said, not thinking everything through as I fired at the suspected Mantigrue.

 Before I knew it, Utchi and I were running like crazy. All of the Manigrues swarmed at us when I fired at the one. I blindly fired behind me as I ran, jumping over stumps and splashing through soggy swamp pits.

 I pulled my com unit from my shirt…

“Droideka… guard!” Needless to say, I was panicking. These Manitgrue would tear Utchi and me apart. We ducked under some heavy shrubbery for a minute of two before I heard my Droideka firing into the forest. Utchi and I came out of hiding and I began to fire at the winged creatures with renewed confidence. The Mantigrues began to drop one at a time. With each one dropping, Utchi would give out a cheer.

Finally, the last one dropped. Figures it would be the suspected one that ate Utchi’s precious gem. We cut the beast open with a crude Ewokian knife. There, in the smell and acidic mucus of the Manitgrues’ stomach, laid Utchi’s gem. He quickly scooped it up and wiped it off with some leaves. He bowed to me several times and petted my hand. His once wild, scared eyes were replaced with one of gratitude and friendship.

  Other Ewoks showed up soon afterward. The party Utchi had called began to carve the wooly hide from the Mantigrues. Tonight was a good night for his tribe. The Mantigrue hides and meat for his tribe would prove to be beneficial for weeks to come. Several other Ewoks greeted and thanked me, but I knew Utchi truly meant it. I bid my farewell with Utchi and headed back to camp.

  I had most of the camp cleaned up before I realized I had forgotten a couple of things. First was my article for the Lianorm Telegraph. My now cracked data pad had the stats on it but no story. The second…

 “My fishing pole!”

 I ran down to the river bank to see nothing but an empty, broken cradle.

 “Must have been a pretty big fish to yank it out of the locked cradle like that”, I thought to myself. Now, I need to send Camaro a fishing pole request.

 Maybe Utchis’ fish stories have some validity. Hmmm…

Fishing Ideas…

 I packed up my gear and headed back into the city due to foul weather. My usually excellent sense of timing seemed to be off a bit as every planet I visited was cold, damp and dreary. And as for the fish, well, they weren’t giving me a break either. Catching .23 Meter Bluefish on a consistent basis wasn’t my idea of fun anyways. My long journey around the galaxy had left me weary and drained.

 Looking around at my now empty Guild Hall outside of town, I realize I have no desk to report from. I have taken up a position as a correspondent for the Lianorm Telegraph and I needed a place to collect my thoughts. Maybe the lake front Quayzar Home should be my place of relaxation thought collection, but that too, is under remodeling. I may possibly tear down the Guild Hall soon. I don’t have much use for it, there is no room near the center of town to relocate it and most importantly, it has become a financial drain.

  I started tweaking on my fish tank at the Quayzar Home when an idea hit me. To assist my fellow Lianormians, I channeled my communication device to [lia]. “With this,” I thought to myself, “I can communicate to all of Lianorm the great fishing spots I find.”  “But even with this device,” I pondered, “It will be hard for people to reach the remote areas in a timely fashion, if they wanted to join me.”

 I fell into a trance, watching my collection of Striped Fish swim back and forth. I remember catching each one of them, the fight they gave me and the satisfaction of placing them in their new tank home. The Tatooine Striped Fish was what started me collecting these fish, giving me the inspiration to build an in home tank.  Oh, that night was so peaceful. Just watching the stars and listening to the night sounds from my campsite near the South Oasis. Camp site… Hmmm… That’s It!

 “I need some camps,” I mumbled to myself snapping out of my tranquil peace of mind, “I guess it’s time for me to visit my sister.”

  I met up with my architect sister near the cantina at her custom furniture and consignment shop. Our relationship was solid, built over time and trust, regardless of our political galactic war alliance differences. I described what I needed and she quickly went through her schematics.

 “This will take a few days to complete,” Camaro said, looking at her list of supplies,         “Lets see, you need a Shuttle Port, Cloning Center and an extended durability battery correct?”

“Yes. That should for fill my needs,” I nodded in agreement, “Nothing fancy, just functional.”

 I knew that the terrain in many locations may not be suitable for a camp of this size. I would have to deploy it as close as I can, where I can. But, with these two pieces of equipment, I can provide excellent opportunities in the fishing arena to my fellow residents. I was completely satisfied with my order and my plan. I stepped out of Camaros’ shop, took a deep breath and then eyed the Cantina.

“I think I need a drink”….

Trader Priorities…

“Not exactly what I had envisioned, but it will do,” Camaro mumbled to herself as she surveyed her newly placed home in the city of Lianorm, Naboo. The round configuration of the house was a decorating challenge. She had just moved to the city after a year of being out on her own, in the wild country side near the famous Lake Retreat.

 Bored with the remote location and the longing to be within a city became an obsession. Her patience and persistence paid off to find the “Right” city to relocate to. After several months of traveling, she found Lianorm. Nestled right in the middle of Naboo near a large lake, she fell in love with the city. It looked to be quite organized and well maintained by its residents. After a quick message to Lianorm’s Mayor, she was able to establish her spot near a cantina and the shuttle port.

 Feeling somewhat satisfied with how the house was arranged, she sat back to check her inventory.

 “Camaro… You busy?” her comm unit blared, startling her from the paperwork trance, “I need some creative help.”

The voice sounded somewhat desperate. A customer was not what she was wanting. With her shop in disarray, she wanted to get things in order to open her shop before she did anything else.

“Camaro… You there?”

Reluctantly, she picked up the unit and answered the now frantic plea. “This is Camaro, what can I do for you?”

“I have a home near Moenia and I would like for you to make something for me. I will send you the coordinates and can meet you there in 5 minutes,” a calmer voice replied.

“Okay, send me the location. I will meet you there.”

“Thank you so much, but please hurry!”

 With a heavy sigh, Camaro packed up her R-2 Droid “Blueprint” and hopped on the next shuttle to Moenia.

 When she approached the median Nubian home, a man came out front and started waving to her. She parked her swoop and greeted him.

“Why the rush for a decorating job?” Camaro asked.

“It’s for my wife,” the man said, directing Camaro inside the home. “She is pregnant and I want to surprise her with a crib.”

 A CRIB!? Oh my… I traveled across Naboo to make a Crib? How do I even make one of those?

 Hiding her frustration, she began thinking things through. How can I create this object for this guy?

“Okay,” Camaro said forcing a smile, “I will do my best”.

 With a hand full of resources and “Blueprint” by her side, she was able to create a piece of what she thought was nothing short of artwork.

As she assembled the last piece, the gentleman’s wife arrived. Camaro could hear the excitement in his voice as he beckoned her to come upstairs.

 His wife broke down into tears as she laid eyes on the crib. “That is beautiful!” she exclaimed. She gave Camaro a huge hug and marveled over the crib’s structure. As the husband and wife embraced each other, Camaro slipped out of the room and proceeded outside.

 “Camaro… Here!” the man called out, running down the stairs, “Your payment”.

“No thanks,” she smiled,”Seeing her excitement and being able to do this for you was payment enough for me. Keep the credits as a gift from me to the baby.”

The man smiled and nodded, fighting back tears. “Thank You!”

 The words echoed in her head for several meters as she raced over the grassy hillsides of Naboo. A smile remained on her face for the entire trip back to Lianorm. She was even able to maintain that smile, as she looked around at her familiar, un-organized home and office.

“Not exactly what I had envisioned, but it will definitely do!”

Tatooine Oasis…

The sand and twin suns were breaking my spirit as I crossed the desert. Crashing near the legendary Krayt Dragon Graveyard of Tatooine, I gathered all I could carry and headed north, narrowly escaping several of the dragons that wanted me for lunch. The super solar flares from the duel suns must have sent my computer interface into total shut down. I guess I should have paid for that latest update when I had my ship in for service after all. After traveling about 1140m north, at a waypoint of +6645 +5453, I could not believe my eyes… Was it a mirage or really a small patch of water on Tatooine? I quickly scampered down the side of the mountain, diving off of an edge, splashing into its cool goodness. Oh it felt wonderful after along afternoon of torturing heat.

I was embarrassed as a patron of the area questioned me. “This place is called Pika Oasis. What business do you have here?” I told him of my near death experience with my spacecraft and my episode with the Krayts. I concluded my story on how wonderful it was to have a watering hole on Tatooine like this. He told me of other places that had water. “Rare”, he said with a slight smile, his skin leathered by the suns, “And very hard to locate” He fed me some Bantha Jerky and gave me some transportation. He wished me luck as I told him that I needed to see these other wonders for myself. “Run directly south about 6000m and you will find another hole,” he smiled pointing south.

With that advice, away I went. All afternoon long, scanning the dune covered landscape for any sign of water. Several times I thought I found it, several times I failed. Until, at waypoint +6283 -422, the Abandoned Oasis was found. Its perfect circle of water, seemed to sooth ones spirit as you gazed upon it. I marked this remarkable spot on my map and befriended a few Jawas passing nearby. With my speeder in bad shape, they took me in and we headed to Mos Eisley.

With my speeder repaired, I grabbed a drink at the Cantina. As I drank, I overheard a salesman wanting to sell some “Waterfront” property to another patron of the cantina. “Preposterous! There is no such thing you lying thief!” and the man was gone. Intrigued by this, I tapped the seller on his shoulder. “Where is this property you speak of? I may be interested.” I inquired.

“Southeast. Coordinates like here.” He mumbled as he handed a napkin to me with the waypoint +1807 -6061 written on it. “It is good place.”

“I will see for myself. If I like it, I will be back with the money you ask.” I said as I took the napkin.

I rolled out of the cantina, stopping by the Star Port to order a new space ship. As I was walking, I noted a commoner selling artwork. There, on the side of a building was an oasis picture on Tatooine with several Stormtroopers. “Where is that?” I asked pointing towards the picture.
“West, North West of Mos Espa I believe”, the girl smiled, “The waypoint marked on the back of the picture reads -5270 +2810, but I don’t know how accurate it really is. Would you like to buy one?”
“Sure”, I smiled. “This will be an interesting trip”’ I thought to myself, “An Imperial area and me being Rebel. Heh, may have to get my sister involved on this adventure.”

After my order was processed, I found myself kicking up dust, scouring the sandy hillsides for patches of water. As night fell, I crested a mountain top to see a beautiful neighborhood of houses around a pool of blue. I set up camp and fished into the early hours of dawn. I fell asleep under a clear sky and to the quiet whispers of the wind blowing through the valley.

“He wasn’t a lying thief after all,” I sighed. “I will have to pay him another visit.”