Sand...
Sand everywhere, damn it.
Looking around, I climb the nearest dune, hoping, for the umpteenth time, to see at least something other than the loathsome landscape surrounding me on all sides.
Of all the cursed options, I got sand.
Okay, of course I'm exaggerating.
In my situation, whether ice deserts, jungles, or especially oceanic planets—they would have been at roughly the same level of disgust...
And at the same level of survival chances.
Adjusting the makeshift hat on my head, I wipe beads of sweat onto the red-hot sand, which hissed at that very moment.
Hissing, damn it, do you understand?
Stumbling from exhaustion, I roll down the dune, tumbling into the gap between the dunes.
For several minutes I lay on the sand, staring at the sunny sky... Bitch, it's always sunny. Because there are two suns here, which almost constantly replace each other. I don't even know if night ever comes here... And if it does, I feel that at that moment the planet freezes through.
"Gotta get up... Come on, get up..."
My hands burned with fire, as did my back, part of my ankles, and my face. I didn't have enough materials to make a fully enclosed suit, even though I had to gut the seats, cutting off the soft upholstery, which I wore like a vest, and I rigged my own torn poncho onto my head, fearing sunstroke.
"And how did they do it in the movies and cartoons of the past..." Panting, I trudged among the dunes, occasionally stumbling into shadows from the overhanging sandy giants. "...Walk around half-naked? It's a total..."
I didn't have time to finish, for a tremor erupted under my feet.
The mind's reflexes worked before the body could even realize anything. Overcoming my own limits, my small body lunged to the side, tumbling a couple of times, stretching ligaments in some places and dislocating a shoulder from a hard impact at high speed.
A second later, a sand fountain exploded on the spot where I had been standing. Scattering the cursed grains around the area, a giant alligator-monitor lizard emerged with a disgruntled roar.
Opening its maw, it squinted at the sunbeams, swinging its snout from side to side until finally its small eyes met mine.
"Oh, come on!"
It was just humanly insulting. Of all the paths, did I have to choose the one where I'd run into this overgrown caiman?
I was soothing myself this way, hoping these beasts didn't swim under the sand like fish in water—that option was many times worse than the first one I'd voiced.
Breaking into a semblance of a run, sliding on the sand and frequently stumbling, I climbed a dune, from which I immediately rolled down.
Only there wasn't much point in it.
A crocodile the size of a Gazelle rammed the top of the dune with its body, showering me from head to toe, causing my improvised hat to fly off into the distance. But I didn't despair; I just continued to run further, trying to choose routes with climbs and slopes so it would be harder for the freak to chase me.
The beast erupted in roars and cries, clearly dissatisfied that the prey was escaping so briskly, and on an inconvenient path to boot.
"Are you complaining?!" Perhaps I'd lost my mind, but at some point it seemed to me that my pursuer was shouting indignantly after me, demanding that I run fairly! "You've grown completely lazy, you alien riffraff! Holy Liberty, if you were in my former world, they would have exterminated you down to the level of house pets!"
A new explosion of sand erupted behind my back. Turning its snout excitedly, the lizard carved a path for itself, frequently slamming its snout into the dunes... well, their tops. After all, it wasn't so big that it could break through them at the base, where the thickness of the sand reached a couple of dozen meters.
And it seems I really did have sunstroke, and thirst was making itself felt, for the monster answered my last words with a mocking growl and, accelerating, tried to run around the dune before I could climb it. Apparently, it intended to wait for me on the other side, but I'm no slouch myself, so I just jumped back, letting gravity drag me down.
Though I overdid it with the run-up and slammed into the sand with all my might, getting stuck there up to my knees.
"Gravity... you heartless bitch."
A mocking wind brought a couple of grains of sand to my face in response, and then my pursuer ran out from behind the dune, snapping its jaws and slowing down. It slowly crept closer, enjoying its victory. Clearly showing off, the crocodile began to circle me, measuring which part of my miserable body to start with.
But I was surprisingly calm and just watched the local predator with weariness in my eyes. There was no fear. After hundreds and thousands of my deaths, and in rather horrific ways—dying in the mouth of this creature—would be nowhere near the top hundred.
Therefore, when the beast's head was pierced through by a large-caliber shot, I only indifferently shifted my gaze to the shooter standing on the top of the nearest dune and aiming a rifle at the fallen creature on the sand.
"Hey, kid! You alive down there? Or dead?"
"Alive, alive..."
"Well, wonders never cease, he really is alive," laughing, the man pumped another bullet into the lizard's head just in case and only after that descended. He was thin and tall, with a majestic mustache across half his face. Dressed in a gray cloak with heavy army boots. A cone-shaped hat made of some fiber adorned his head. All his clothes were beige, so the man practically blended in with the sand as soon as one looked away. "Heh-heh... And I thought I'd lost my mind in my old age."
Approaching me, he, despite his slightness, pulled me out of the sand in one jerk, helping me stand on my feet.
"Well, what's up, little one? Did you soil yourself? Ha-ha-ha..."
"I would have, if I had anything left; while I was falling in the pod, everything fell out."
"In a pod, then," his gaze changed for a moment, after which the man chuckled kindly, clapping me on the shoulder, "my name is Mizuna. I don't know what your plans were, but I'm a fairly good person, so I'll get your ass out of here."
"I don't mind," my head was spinning. The run through the desert hadn't been easy, and the body's last resources had been spent on saving my life. My legs ached mercilessly, and my back trembled, betraying the tension, "is there any water by any chance?"
"Kheh... Look at you, all business. Water in the desert is an expensive matter, but..." Pulling a flask from his tunic, he handed it to me, watching carefully how I handled his gift. Uncorking the simple cap, I took a couple of tiny sips just to wet my mouth and only after ten seconds, when almost all the water had been absorbed into my parched mouth, did I swallow the rest. "Smart boy. Well done, you'll go far..."
"Yeah."
With the last of my strength, I tried to thank the old man, but my body failed me and I flopped face-first into the sand without a shred of conscience. At least that was the plan, but strong, thin arms, more like the branches of an old tree, caught me near the ground, preventing the fall.
***
"Dad! Why do we even need him? Just wasting water on him..."
A child's voice broke through my sleep. And I was dreaming of nothing other than another battle for Super Earth. More precisely, I don't remember Earth itself, but I had happened to fight under its flags on a wide variety of planets.
That time we were rescuing important personnel from a surrounded research station. Three dozen workers and scientists without any weapons or skills for survival on an enemy-surrounded planet.
I remember how we burst into the fire-engulfed complex then. Terminids were already breaching tunnels to the bunkers, hoping to feast on the people huddled inside, but we got there first.
A bloody battle. Screams, explosions. Everything as it always is for Helldivers.
But that's not what I remembered. I remembered the faces of the people we pulled out of there.
Grateful, joyful, confident that as long as we stood beside them, not a single enemy in the Universe was frightening to them. Perhaps that was when my heart first wavered under the pressure of propaganda and hammered-in dogmas. The first, but far from the last time.
Opening my eyes, trying to drive away the vision that made my heart beat faster, I look around, realizing I'm in some kind of hovel...
"We don't live rich here..."
"Listen, hovel! I'll knock all your teeth out right now!"
Apparently, I had spoken my last thoughts aloud. Propping myself up on an elbow, I saw an amusing sight: a small, scrawny kid was trying to lunge toward me, but his... father, probably. His father was holding him back by the head with one hand, keeping him from reaching me.
"What do you think I saved him for? So you could attack him here?"
"But, Pops! Did you hear what he said?"
"Well, his manners aren't much better than yours, it seems," my mustachioed savior smirked, glancing my way. "I see you're still having a rough time. I'm Mizuna, in case you forgot..."
"No, no... I'm sorry. Thank you, I just haven't quite come to my senses yet."
"That's understandable, you had so many injuries," he laughed, tossing some black gunk from a small aluminum tin into his mouth, chewing vigorously and tucking the contents under his lip. "Is this tobacco? Want some?"
"I think I'll pass," I said, sitting up on the bed and clutching my splitting head, replaying everything that had happened in my memory. "Do you live here alone?"
"If you mean the house, then yes," another smirk and a chuckle punctuated the answer. "If you mean our village... Well, there's about three hundred of us. Maybe another fifty on top of that, but no more. The water filling station won't support any more, so we huddle together pretty tight."
"A station? Are there many like that around here?"
I didn't want to stay silent, so I began questioning the man about everything, asking broad questions so his answers would last as long as possible, giving me more nuances and food for thought.
We talked for nearly two hours, until Mizuna's offended son finally calmed down and ran outside, where shouts and curses could be heard a few minutes later.
Lamenting his reckless boy, my savior poured me a local variation of tea made from mushrooms and the dried innards of some local animals, then invited me to the table, where he explained everything in more detail.
I was in a real shithole. I used to complain about Minoris, but what was happening here turned out to be many times worse and more pathetic.
An endless desert with rare oases, each under someone's control. Constant war between settlements for water and resources, and most importantly, even with all that, the desert, heat, and drought weren't the most dangerous enemies on this planet, whose name was Tatooine. Yes, the very same Tatooine that played such a massive role for the main characters of the Star Wars saga.
But now it was a completely different Tatooine, not that grim haven for bandits and murderers ruled by the Hutts. No, now it was a gruesome homeland of monsters, wild tribes, and small settlements full of feral Humans who mistook ancient technologies for miracles.
"At least they haven't forgotten what blasters look like and far more effective weapons; Mizuna just turned out to be such a lover of the old ways."
A true Wild West, where it was every man for himself and you could only trust the handful of people you'd lived with since childhood... and even then, not if it came down to water.
It's hard to put into words all the crap currently going on on Tatooine. The colonists who arrived with the first ships had gradually regressed, and the few miners who came with the mining corporation were just a drop in the bucket; after the destruction of the station in orbit, they locked themselves in their villages, shooting at anyone who tried to approach.
Mizuna also told me about some poor souls who crashed on the planet nearly thirty years ago on the other side of Tatooine. None of the locals knew exactly what was happening there, but supposedly there was even a spaceport and proper walls, with weapons and food. Doubtful, of course, but such tall tales are always in circulation.
There were also indigenous inhabitants in the deserts, if you could even apply such a word to them. No one knew their exact name, but most called them Tusken Raiders, though words like raiders, marauders, assholes were more common...
Cruel and harsh creatures who always wrapped themselves in strange clothes, they attacked quickly and mercilessly, carrying off everything useful and often taking settlers into slavery. It was unclear how they survived in the desert, and Mizuna himself could tell me little about their culture or customs, only warning me that if you're unlucky enough to meet one "sand-dweller," you can be sure there are about twenty more nearby.
He told me about various life forms that could be encountered in the desert, and the more I listened to him, the more I realized...
It's not that deserted here! Forgive the tautology. A hell of a lot of creatures have lived here since ancient times. Some of them are theoretically immortal and can't die of old age.
And all these people, desert-dwellers, monsters, and wild beasts... they all continue to live in this harsh world. Truly live, not just survive. They trade with each other, build things, win new plots of land for themselves.
A harsh place where I would fit in perfectly.
Even halfway through the story, I realized how difficult it was to live here. So, as Mizuna rambled on, I became more convinced that I shouldn't make any rash moves; it was better to stay and grow stronger in the harsh conditions of this planet, while simultaneously bringing the miracles of liberty and Democracy to this world.
It's a pity that through my behavior, without even noticing it, I gave rise to entirely different reflections and hopes in my companion.
***
Mizuna, a tired and exhausted wanderer of the vast sands of Tatooine, looked at the boy he had saved. The boy was covered in dust, his eyes full of wonder and curiosity as he sat before him, greedily listening to his tale of a world full of dangers.
Frenzy, of course, was a part of life on this planet, but the feeling that this young lad knew no fear initially surprised the old hunter.
"How can he not be afraid? At his age... Or is he just simple-minded, like mine?.. Though, Kanto is just a pervert and a fool, but this one seems completely blessed," Mizuna thought, rubbing his scarred hands.
His life, full of horrors and betrayal, was shaped under the weight of bitter memories and the unceasing struggle for survival. Many years ago, he hadn't been like this, clearly understanding how dangerous the desert could be. And life on Tatooine had quickly taught him cruel lessons.
Now, every time he looked at the sand, he saw how it seemed to swallow everything that was good and bright.
"I saved him only because there's something in him," he mused while busying himself around the house and garage, checking the moisture vaporator.
"Maybe I shouldn't have saved him, just hung an extra mouth on my neck for nothing?" Mizuna sighed, leaving thoughts of his own past and memories of those he had lost when he had yielded to such altruism in his youth beneath a heavy crust of salty sweat.
Meanwhile, the boy listened impatiently, greedily soaking up every word.
"On this planet, there are raiders, beasts that want to eat anyone who shows weakness," Mizuna explained while gathering provisions. "The scars you see on my body—each one is a memory of an encounter with a monster in the desert. Here, every step could be your last."
There was no fear in his voice, only a sincere desire to warn. But the boy only nodded, his gaze full of admiration. Every mention of adventures, which he clearly felt he lacked, seemed to fill him with energy.
Lost in his thoughts, Mizuna finished his daily chores and sat down next to the boy. Watching how the lad hung on his every word, the old man suddenly realized: perhaps right now, in these sands, a new spark had been lit—a spark capable of rekindling hope and faith in something more than just survival. Or conversely—leading them to their final downfall.
"Sometimes," he thought, "to survive on Tatooine, you need not only a weapon, but a dream. Yes, a dream is what will help us get through all the terrible trials, capable of bypassing enemies and swimming across boundless oceans of stubbornness to become something more." And he smiled.
On this godforsaken edge of the Universe, where there should be just enough fear to help you survive, this crazy kid with burning eyes reminded him that even in the darkest places, light can break through.
***
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