Tatooine's Open Orbit

*Gavin brought the YT-1930 into orbit and headed away from the planet as the coordinates finished loading into the system.* "I don't think I have a better answer at this point. That is unless you consider not sleeping or eating for nearly ten years as an answer."

*Gavin shrugged.* "Oh, well. Guess it's just me then that's did that." *He gave a laugh as the console alerted him that it was ready.* "Alright, let's go see daddy." *He laugh again as the ship blasted off into hyperspace.*

CONTINUED FROM SANPEOPLE ENCLAVE, BECAUSE OF LIMITED USE OF COMPUTER

As the mandalorian shuttle landed in the hangar of Baldrik III, the Ardent class Fast frigate, it became clear that this was not a very big hangar, but it is easy to guess that it must have felt huge for the tuskens.

For the force users on the shuttle, several presences became appearent strong in the force. Six knew these, the weapest of them, the Mistress of Pain. This Named Banshee was of the secretive sort.  No Banshee was ever to tell anyone what they ever did together. They may lie, or they may just simply say nought, but never ever tell what happens in the Hall Of Pain, inside the Crucible. Just feeling her presence, Six had a wash of goosflesh go through her body, and a trembling of her spine. The second was a hard woman, Athena, the Mistress of War some called her. She held a large number of banshees in constant training and she was overlooking larger mobilisation of Banshee forces, a kind of General.

The third was given. The strongest of all presences. The Mistress herself, Atia. This one would even Nartaga recognise, allthough much stronger then the last time they met.

As the ramp lowered, there she was. Wrapped in special, clean cloth that helps the stealth field spread over her body and gives slightly greater mobility while stealthed, dark purple of colour. She was wrapped from combatboots to the tips of her fingers and Lekkus. Only her face was visible, a lovely and kind face defiled by the blizard cold blue eyes. She stood strait, proud, with a slaves collar of her own worn with honor and in the open.
In her right hand she held the Staff of Three Sisters, or the Scepter of Trinity as some called it. Three wooden branches twirling around eachother in a strait line, finally meeting up at the end and arching in to finally meet. It was imbued with the force of three powefull nightsisters, Atia, Wickolia, and Sabine, the matriarch.

In her other hand she held a picknick basket filled with fruits, sandwitches and fruit juice bottles.

She seemed to be alone, but that was only for those that were not strng in the force. Weaker presences were felt all around the ship, and they would soon become appearent.

"Welcome Guests!"

THe nightsister proclaimed, and struck the metal flooring three times with her mighty staff. As the sound echoed, Banshees revieled themselves, deactivating the stealth fields. Twileks covered in cloth just like their mistress, armed with E11 Blasters and sharp wibroswords. Slave collars on all of them. They were kneeling with their heads low, aimed on the floor. As the last echo faded, all of them, as if on command looked up on the ship and its inhabitants.

Six ran down from the ramp, and to her mistresses feet, falling down on her knees and touching the floor with her mask humbly. The Nightsister looked down on her creature.

"Welcome home my beloved pet."

Then, at the Tusken guests. Her cold gaze were now focussed on all of them.

"And a warm welcome to you, Nartaga, Councilor and Shaman. Your presence warms me, I have heard so much good off you. And to you, Dunewalkers of the proud people of the Sand, do not fear my warriors, they only will fight you when the time is right. Please, come closer. You have nothing to fear from the Banshee clan."

''Different times. I was also still young to the world, serving the phoenix imperium, but that bird burns no more.''

The nightsister looked down on the still kneeking tusken slave and her words were warm, loving even.

''My dear, stand and greet your guests, they are yours as much as they are mine...''

She then looked around at her banshees.

''My pets, back to your duties.''

The banshees stood up in unitiin and walkes out of the hangar, all but two, whom stood up in guard beside the door.

Six herself was filled with fear. This was her first real mission, and all she has ever done on tattooine went through her mind, trying to see if she had done anything wrong. She got a bit calmer When her mistress looked down on her with those cold blues. For all that saw those eyes, the thought to guard your back may be frequent, but she had a way, once you were hers and hers alone to look warm towards you. Maybe it was a trick with the force, six tried to put it in logic, or her experiences with the woman. None the less, she was shivering no more.
Six stood up and took position behind Atia.

''I hope you can stay a while, I have set aside living space for you aboard the ship. We have a lot to talk about, and even more to do. But first, a picknick?''

She waved with the basket in her hands. As if saying:for old times sake.

''No. I was bread for pleasure and trained for combat. Creatures seldom leave thier set paths. I do nor wish you to do so. Here.''

She pointed at a random location in the nearly empty hangar. She gave the basket to six, whom started to unfold a nice red an and white striped blanket, streightening it and putting it down. She then pulled plates, glasses, bread, knives, vegetables and meats from said archaic means of transportation, the basket.

''I am sorry for the spartan scenery, this is a warship, and it lacks the usual comfort of civilian vessels like a holobraphic hall, and its likes. Now... as for slavery... 5hat institution will and has always been present, wherever civilisation put its roots. Even in your society, to a degree. Six has been gratious tonoffer us insights in the lives of your women.''

She gave pause here, but just enough to tone her words, not enough to let nartaga answer them.

''But I am not here to criticyse you and your ways. Yes, my mind is on war. I believe we have a common enemy, one that has defiled your planet with its sickness, aswell as it has twisted slavery to its will. My world. I will not administer the symptoms, I intend to cripple the heart of the desease. I intend to strike at the Hutt cartells, on their homeworld of Nal Hutta itself. That is why I am seeking allies, ones whom have a beef with the hutts, like ourselves.''

As the picknick got served by six, Atia sar down into lotus position and let her staff linger ac3oss her knees, waiting for Nartagas and Sixs reaction to her bold proposal. She also reach3d out a hand towards the empty part of the blanket, offering Nartaga to sit.

Six was rather suprised by this. She herself was too young to even consider the consequences of such an action. She simply looked at Nartaga, and for her, this afternoon could just have been a tenis match, with the ball going from left to the right.

''Off course. I fully understand.''

She then smiled. Not warmly like at her banshees and Six. She smiled as if she had already won the match. The 'I got you' smile.

''Nice ship. How much did it cost?''

She didnt have to say the obvious. Nartaga knew Six was sending her reports home. Atia would know that the tuskens had nothing of real value that could by a mandalorian ship. She knew this, and she knew Nartaga knew she knew this.

The ball was in his court...

Atia looked down on her tusken slave with a raised, tatooed eyebrow.

''Is that so?''

Six was trying to seem as invisible as possible without her stealth generator active, while putting out expensive china for tea, and a thermo-canteen full of said bevarage. Atia looked back at Nartaga.

''To my knowledge your clan recently obtained a ship, one that was shot at when a tusken and a jawa took it. Somewhere in... Anchorage? Since my information said the ones whom owned said ship beforehand were mandaloreans, I believed it was this ship. I am sorry, I am but a mare slave, uneducated in manners of trade... but wouldnt the people that owned said ship want it back?
Or... at least... exact revenge on the tusken clan that took it, or any clan they could find?''

atias eye lingered for a second on the dirty water bladder. She wasnt expressing dismay or any of the likes, just looked at it for one second too long before her gaze found its way back to Nartaga, and then the tea. She poured for herself, and Nartaga.
This little incident also gave her time to think over her words. Nartaga seemed to be one of the anchors that stopped the Tusken in their tracks, when it comes to raiding. He seemed rather firm in this, and Atia needed information on the rest of the councilors views regarding the issue. That would be Sixs job. But... she may come around from an other direction.

"Aye, and here is where we come to my point. To my understanding, you need these ships to reach the stars, as so many before you have done. For that, you need a great amount of things. Star charts, fuel, IFF transponders, deed of ownership, pilots licenses, Weapon module rights, registry numbers, documentation and beaurocracy wherever you turn your head, and I have not even come to the consumables. Food, Drink, fuel, spare parts, tebana gas, .... 34, what is that clear blue liquid in Ion engines that costs so much?"

Atia turned back, towards one of the door guarding Banshees, whom snapped into attention and answered at once.

-34-
"We call it Space Oil, Mistress. I am sure there is a better name, I do not recall.

Ati turned back again, with a nonchalant wave of her head.

"That too. Where I am getting at, is simple. With civilisation at nearly every rock worthy of mention, just reaching the stars and taking voyages left and right is dangerous. Have no space charts? You hit a sun and vaporise. No IFF transponders? Someone mildly paranoid would just blow your ship out of the sky. Dont have propper documentation for ship, pilot and cargo? You get to jail and your ship is impounded.

Do you see where I am going with this, Councilor Nartaga?"

"Ever heard about the term... PR? It is short for Public relations. I am not expert, I had to homeschool myself, but I read about it in a media school book. PR is the way to introduce a new product to a market, like Six did with her blasters. Make it look nice and disirable so it would be bought and bring in profit.

There are many kinds of PR, like there are the kind where a salesman walks door to door and shows the product they sell to singular potential buyers. It is slow, and it reaches few people. There are small holo-sagments in broadcasts that can be watched, these are called commersials. these can reach millions, making the prodcut intresting for just so much."

She drank some tea, as a rhetorical pause.

You, the Tusken people are a product. Everything is, everything we sentient beings build is a product, may it be materiel or ideological. Right now, as you say you are lawless, known for bloody raids and not really .... nice. You are a very bad product to sell. Nobody wants to buy.

but... if you did something that made you look like someone with councience, like a force of good in the world, you may find more open arms and like thinking ideals. Make the Tusken name known, make the product linked with a happening... like justice against an unjust, criminal and desiesed society like the hutts. You may gain one enemy, but will gain many many more allies, us included."