Finally, after organizing everything in town and leaving the rest to my employees and the mayor I took a group of the most veteran and loyal men that I currently had in service to the outskirts of the town in M3 halftrucks and a Ford GPW jeep we took the route toward Mos Espa, where hopefully Iwould be able to acquire a few ships from the spaceports or the junkiards. I'm mainly searching for ships that could be used to transpot goods but if I find a ship that I like I would take it for sure.
We took half an hour to reach the city and park the vehicles, with me where 25, a platoon of my personal stormtroopers, arm with MP-28 submachineguns, M1 carabines and some even carry Winchester Model 1912 shotguns for urban warfare. I knew that my head had a price and I damn well would not serve it in silver plate to take.
After leaving the M3 and jeep behind, guard by 12 men, the 13 left were to accompany me to the local shops and in the junkiard number 47 we found a treasure trove, a XS Stock Light Freighter from the Old Republic Era, it's state more than deplorable which means a lower price, normally this ship should cost around 100,000 to 120,000 credits new, in this state if the guy up the price to more than 10.000 is a robbery, an indeed the guy try to scam me. He sadi that it was in the right state to be sell for 30.000 credits, and I told him to fuck off and that if he try that shit with me again he will not see the suns of Tatooine anymore. The final price 15.000 credits, more than what I want but half the price he asked, and in the transaction was include the hangar for the reparation and the moving of the ship. For a starter it was not that bad.
To make the reparations I hired a group of specialized mechanic that based on rumors are quite trustworthy and if any piece is missing they should go to Watto's store and pay under my name. It seem that now it carries quite the weight in this sandy planet. Of course this was done with second intentions, mainly to keep an eye on Anakin Skywalker and her mother Shmi. I will help them from the shadows to improve they're lifestyle but I will not reveal myself yet, it was not time.
Regarding ships, we also found two Z-95 headhunters and a Kom'rk-class Fighter/Transport class in need of a lot of repairs, I don't know how it end here, but I hope that it's owner is dead in some corner of the universe. After makng the final deals we returnd to the halftrucks and jeep to return to our base.
But misfortune favors always to the bold ones eh. Our small convoy, composed of two M3 halftrucks and a Ford GPW jeep in a close formation-with one halftruck in the front and the other behind-. I was in the jeep as always when the copilot was shot death by a blater bolt forcing the to stop the jeep and leaving to take cover, I did the same, and while I was searching for any weapon beside my trusted P-38 pistol, the halftrucks had already stop and were returning fire to the attackers. The first halftruck, screeched to a halt and returned fire with its mounted .50 caliber machine gun. The second halftruck mirrored the move, sending out a hail of bullets in all directions. The attackers were clever-well-hidden, shooting from the rocks and hills that dotted the desolate terrain-but the halftrucks were sturdy and relentless, tearing into the rock formations with their suppressing fire. I could feel the heat of the sun and the tension in the air made my throat dry. My hand already had my pistol in it but I needed something more, something heavier to make an impact. The convoy wasn't in the best shape for a prolonged firefight. The M3s were armored, but the attackers had an advantage in terrain and numbers. A few lucky shots could put an end to our operation.
"Get your head down!" I heard one of the halftruck gunners yell over, but I was already out of the jeep, moving low to the ground, my eyes scanning the landscape. There was no time to waste. I crouched, scanning the debris for anything I could use. My eyes caught a glimpse of the weapon cache in the back of the second halftruck, a stash of weapons and grenades. With a quick sprint, I dashed between the two vehicles, narrowly avoiding a blaster bolt that seared the air beside me. Reaching the rear of the halftruck, I quickly grabbed a n M1 carabine, It wasn't my weapon of choice, but it was better than nothing. I checked it over, found it intact, and slid a couple of Mk2 grenades into my belt for good measure.
Turning, I sprinted toward the cover of a small rock formation nearby. The blaster fire continued to crackle, and the sand kicked up with every explosion. The attackers were methodical, but so were we. I dropped to a crouch behind the rocks, peering out over the top. My heart was racing. Adrenaline sharpened my senses, and I could almost feel the heat from the distant twin suns on my face. I adjusted the rifle's sights, taking aim at a figure that peeked out from behind a ridge. A steady squeeze of the trigger, and the bullet shot out, striking the target cleanly. The figure collapsed without a sound.
"One down," I muttered under my breath, but I knew this was far from over.
The halftrucks continued to pour fire into the attackers' positions, but I could see some movement up on the ridgeline. They were regrouping. As I took another shot at a blaster-wielding figure trying to move along the ridge, I saw something that made my blood run cold. A flash of movement in the distance, and I could just make out the silhouette of a larger vehicle.
"Reinforcements," I muttered, feeling the urgency of the moment. We couldn't stay pinned down here. We had to break contact before they surrounded us completely.
I run towards the second halftruck. "We need a fallback route, now! They're bringing in reinforcements!"
"On it. We'll cover you. Get to the canyon pass. Move!"
Without waiting, I gave the signal to the halftruck crew, and we all began to move in unison, keeping low and tight. The attackers' fire intensified as we started to retreat, but the halftrucks laid down a suppressive fire, sending the attackers ducking for cover. The heat of the battle pressed in, but there was no choice now but to move—our convoy was too exposed. We made a break for the canyon pass, the landscape stretching out before us. Behind us, the gunfire continued to ring out, but with the cover of the canyon, we might stand a chance of surviving this ambush.
"Stay sharp!" I shouted, looking over my shoulder as we moved. The ground felt uneven beneath my boots, the rocks scraping against my legs. Every step felt like a decision between life and death.
As we reached the mouth of the canyon, I could hear the rumble of engines. The attackers weren't giving up that easily. We were not safe yet.
We had to hold the pass.