The worst thing to hit Mos Eisley isn’t a natural disaster. It isn’t a SANDSTORM-- or an earthquake-- or a krayt attack. It isn’t even the smugglers who hang around street corners like birds of carrion, waiting for their next job. Scum they may be, but least they have an unspoken code of conduct.
The worst thing to hit Mos Eisley is the RAVAGERS.
They flood the streets of the city in the thousands, like a massive pack of wild kath hounds. Every restaurant, every store, every cantina-- is painted red with the leathers of Yondu’s crew, subjected to the reckless harassment of pirates drunk on power. There’s strength in numbers like theirs: they may not be the most educated band of criminals on the Outer Rim, but they’ve got men to spare and a FLEET of wicked ships.
---- Most of which are still housed aboard the Eclector, a massive carrier that hangs like a specter over the planet. They’ve come to the surface in large groups aboard a few dozen M-ships, each of them custom-tailored to their pilot and clad in garish colors. Though it’s impossible to turn a corner in the city without nearly running headfirst into a group of drunken Ravagers, the thickest concentration of them has gathered at the space port, where they revel on the landing pads between ships like sentinels.
And if a young Wedge Antilles thinks he can slip past them unnoticed, he’s sorely MISTAKEN.
The minute he sets foot outside his ship he’s swept up by the tide-- passed from one cluster to another-- handed foul drinks and slapped around ( affectionately ). It’s a dizzying journey to the heart of the Ravager army, but it’s not long before a blue-skinned Centaurian has thrown his arm around the young pilot’s shoulders.
At a glance, it’s not hard to see that Yondu is different from the rest: his uniform is darker, better tailored, SEASONED with years of modifications. He has an authoritative bearing; before the Ravagers pressed in on Wedge from all sides, but as soon as he’s in the captain’s hands, they give him a wide berth, as if to say-- you’re in for it now.
“We saw you flyin’ out there. You’re a hell of a PILOT, boy.”
