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Hiring a Hero 2000 short story by Jonathan Hicks Under a year before Episode IV - A New Hope The
sun was shining although there was a slight misting rain that seemed to cling
to everything and give it a strange, metallic shine. Every blast of heat from
retrorockets turned the atmosphere around the landing pad into a huge mass of
superheated steam. One such cloud was dispersing slowly to reveal a recently
landed transport. It creaked and groaned as it settled on its support struts. The
ship was long and covered in exposed piping. It had four stubby wings, which
doubled as extendible landing gear. Its dark grey metal glimmered in the
moisture under the two dimly shining moons above. The
cloud evaporated. As automated docking clamps seized hold of the starships
landing gear, a small hatch slid open on the underside and a ramp unfolded at
a slight angle. The magnetic fasteners held it in place and a figure appeared
at the door, back turned to the bay as it descended the ramp and stepped
gingerly onto the metallic surface. He
turned slowly and took in the view, and then tilted his head up, eyes closed,
to let the thickening rain splash across his face. Rivulets of moisture ran
down his face and neck and entered his flight suit, but he ignored the
sensation and revelled in the un-filtered air. He opened his eyes and took in
the sight of the two moons. "Ahhh...
Amagad,” he whispered, and moisture entered his mouth and he smiled broadly. The
steam was all gone, now, and he used the improved view to take a good look at
where he had been instructed to land. There were nine other ships in the bay,
all of different design and capability. He saw one huge vessel with a garish
paint job and tried to figure out where he had seen it before. It sat lazily,
the moisture gathered on and around it told him that it had been there quite
some time. His own ship was hissing as the moisture
touched its still heated hull. Across
the bay and through the main door was a collection of domed buildings that
made up the landing administration, and beyond them were open forest and
mountains. It
had been a long trip from the Galli Station. He had been suffering from
headaches on the latter half of his trip due to the variations of gravity as
he had started the deceleration procedure on his final approach to Amagad. He
didn’t do that much space travel; he didn’t really have to in his job. Once
he got a contract at the place he had landed he would stick around for
several months until the job was finished. He had spent three months on
Galli, and before that fourteen on Zelon. The two days he had just spent
cooped up inside the metal cocoon behind him was the longest trip he had
made. He never really minded the long periods between voyages. It made the
experience of them tolerable, less annoying. He had been offered a lucrative
five-year contract to shuttle passengers and supplies from Zelon to Cawbate
not long ago, but turned it down due to the pressure involved and the sheer
amount of travelling. The freck with
that, he had told his agent. He
turned on his heel and started the walk to the edge of the shallow landing
pit he was in. Small swirls of steam rose from the ground in their thousands
as the ever thickening droplets of rain landed on the heated platform. The
man suddenly realised the state of the weather and began to quickstep up the
side of the pit, and then began to run as the rain gathered momentum. As he
approached the buildings to the side of the facility, his flight jacket was
over his head and every footfall sprayed water around him. The
doors of the largest dome signposted arrivals slid open as he approached
and he ducked in, pulling the coat back over his head and adjusting it to fit
more comfortably about his shoulders. He ruffled his dark hair to get a bit
of shape in the damp mass and approached the only desk in sight. The room he
was in was well lit with roof lamps and the silvery light from the moon shone
through the ceiling to floor windows as the light began to get dimmer. He
passed couches and benches as he walked up to the desk. The
man behind the desk was short and lean, with thick electronic spectacles,
which re-adjusted the focus as he looked up at the new arrival. He put down
the lightstylus he was scribbling on a pad with and
interlocked his fingers and gazed at him with a little irritation. The
arrival looked on the desk and saw a series of doodles on the datapad, and he
smiled at the clerk lopsidedly, silently apologising for interrupting his
games. “Welcome to Amagad,” the clerk said in a
raspy voice, quickly separating his hands to wave slightly to encompass the
location. “I’ll need to see your landing permit, licence and registration.” The
arrival, used to this request from every landing facility he docked at, was
already slipping a wallet free from his inside pocket and placing it on the
desk. Before the clerk had chance to ask the question, he divulged his name. “Quenn, Arroth, registration three-niner-zero-three-six-oh.” The
clerk opened the wallet and began to scan the documents enclosed,
placing each one to his right as he meticulously read every piece of
information printed on the plastic cards. He slid one through a small scanner
next to a monitor and a message appeared, clearing Arroth for landing his
vessel at the facility. The clerk nodded. “Everything seems to be in order, although
the landing permit does not specify a departure date.” “I’m hoping to pay as I go, actually.” He
placed an account credstick onto the desk and the
clerk picked it up and ran it through the same screen. After a little while,
a message appeared under the landing clearance. “That’s fine. Shall I debit your account
weekly or daily?” “Daily will be fine. I may have to leave
at short notice.” “I understand. The charge is one hundred
and fifty for the landing access and then a rate of twenty per day. Would you
like to use any of the on-site facilities? Ship valet? Re-supply?” Arroth
noticed that as the clerk offered the extra services, his expression changed
as if looking at him for the first time and realising something. Although he
did not directly ask the question, Arroth guessed that the clerk was
wondering where he had seen him before. He became uncomfortable as he was
scrutinised. “Where do I make my mark?” he asked
quickly. “What? Oh, just give me your thumbprint
here, and a retinal scan here.” He
did as required, all the while conscious of the clerk observing him. He
quickly went through the procedures and gathered up his documents. “Thanks. I’ll need a ride into the city.
Is there a robotaxi about somewhere?” The
clerk jerked a thumb over his shoulder. “There’s a hopper service out back, it’ll
take you straight into town. There’s a five cred
charge.” Arroth
smiled, placed his wallet back into his inside pocket and began to walk to
the rear door. He passed under a frame that resembled a disembodied doorway,
which he recognised as a scanner, and when the alarm didn’t sound he breathed
out and headed for the exit, all the while aware he was being carefully
watched by the clerk. The doors slid open automatically, revealing
a small-concreted yard with no exit road. The trees were close, now, towering
above as if threatening to topple over and crush him. He quickly scanned the
area and saw a small transport in the centre of the yard, it’s
tilt-engines pointed downwards in the parked position. He ran over to it, the
rain pounding against his back and shoulders as he covered the short
distance. The side door was swung upwards by a single occupant as he came up
to the vehicle and he all but dived into the back seat. “Wey-hey,” said
the pilot, his stubble-covered face splitting into a cheeky grin. “The
weather to your liking?” Arroth
quickly shook his jacket free of excess moisture as he pulled the door back
down. He returned the pilot’s smile. “Not wet enough, I reckon.” The
pilot shook his head and took a long drag on the thick NixStik
he had jammed between his teeth. Arroth revelled in the smoky atmosphere,
reminding himself he had quit the habit last month. He reached into his
flight suit pocket and pulled out a five-credit chip. “Can this hopper negotiate this weather? I
could do with getting into town soon, to a hotel.” The
rain slowed to a drizzle. The individual droplets ran down the bubble-like
cockpit window in their dozens, casting a strange live shadow over Arroth’s face as he watched each one join, separate and
track a winding path along the glass. The pilot brought him out of his
thoughts. “Haven’t I seen you somewhere before? On
the Holovid, maybe?” He was pressing studs and throwing switches to get some
life out of the hopper. Arroth squirmed and looked out of the window, as if
turning his face from the eyes of the pilot would somehow make him think he
was mistaken. After placing a large pair of earphones and
a communication unit on his head, the pilot said. “Yeah, I know you. Your
that law guy from here, Arroth Quinn, right?” The engines of the hopper were
building in power, emitting a low hum that built up into a high whine. The
pilot turned his attention forward as he applied more power, but kept giving
Arroth glances in a mirror mounted on the control panel. The wings on the
hopper began to turn the surrounding water to vapour as the small craft rose
from the ground. “Yeah, your Quinn. Wow. Just wait
until I tell Himbs who I had in the back of my hopper. Am I right? I’m right,
aren’t I?” Arroth
let out a long breath as the wings on the hopper tilted at such an angle it
pushed it forward. Small maneouvering jets kept the
little vehicle stable as it began the journey into the city. Forest flashed
by underneath, sometimes too close for Arroth to feel comfortable. He wished
the pilot would keep more attention on his flying than on him. He decided to
tell him what he wanted to know. “I’m Arroth Quenn, yes. But I’m not from
Amagad I’m from A-desando. I grew up on Amagad.” “How long has it been since you’ve been
back home?” “Oh, years. Probably a good twelve or
thirteen. I never really got the chance to travel home.” “I guess you were too busy busting
criminals, right? I’ve seen the vid reports, with you busting that DL
smuggling ring on Tesser a while back.” Arroth
shifted, uncomfortable with the conversation. He crossed his arms and gazed
out at the forest below, watching the water stream at the wrong angle across
the glass as if fighting to return to the landing facility. Outside
the light was gone completely, only broken by the two shining globes in the
sky and the lights of the city. Arroth rubbed his eyes and shifted in his
seat to get a better view of the buildings as the small craft circled in,
decreasing altitude and speed, and apparently heading for the roof of a four
storied building which was long and thin with a larger, circular forecourt,
which housed a glass-covered swimming pool. At this height he could just make
out people crowding around the pool, obviously attending some kind of party.
This section of the town was relatively flat, with the buildings being no
more four stories. Closer to the centre of the town were half a dozen taller,
more attractive constructions of different shapes. Amagad
City was long and thin, stretching up the coast across the mouth of a huge
bay. To the south were the sprawling landing pits, to the north was where the
tall towers of scattered businesses and operations. On the streets were shops
and tradehalls that rivalled even the greatest
consumer sprawl. Just a little further north was a huge contained area. A
fortress surrounded by the most advanced security system ever devised,
designed to maim or kill unwanteds. Glann Cipple,
the governor of Amagad City, was very particular about his privacy. Everyone
knew that Glann’s business was straight on the outside but crooked on the
inside. That was why so many beings flocked to Amagad; the chances of making
your fortune were high. The chances of dying on your first visit were higher. There
was a jolt, and the hopper touched down on the roof of the building with the
swimming pool. There were lights flashing in a circle where the craft had
touched down, with large fluorescent lights spelling out Hotel Amagad Landing Station around the edge of it. The pilot
powered down the engines but left the start up motor idling. He obviously
wasn’t going to stay long. Arroth
opened the door to the vehicle and stepped out, half expecting the pilot to
follow him, but the big man stayed in his seat and wound down his window. “Well, it was a pleasure Mister Quonn. Just head down that turboshaft
there and it’ll take you straight to the booking desk.” “It was a pleasant trip, thank you. Here.”
Arroth handed him a couple of extra creds, “have a drink on me.” “I’ll certainly do that later. See you
around.” Arroth
quick stepped over to the elevator doors as the pilot channelled energy into
the primary engines, tilted the wings slightly and took off at an angle,
swinging around wildly and then streaking off, attention lights flashing.
Arroth watched it go, until it was just another flashing speck in the night
sky. It appeared to him that the pilot enjoyed flying alone a lot more than
plying his trade. The
elevator doors slid open a few moments after he had pressed a lighted button
on the wall. He stepped into a clean elevator car and pressed the ground
floor button. The car dropped quickly. Walking
into the main lobby, Arroth suddenly felt out of place. This hotel was quite
a set-up. There was a huge crystal chandelier in the middle of a domed
ceiling, which was the first thing his eyes were drawn to. He surmised that
it must at least have been the size of the hopper he had just travelled in,
and at this distance he couldn’t tell if the hanging was actual crystal or
mock-glass crystal. He let his eyes fall to take in the rest of the entrance
hall. It
was at that point that he started to feel uncomfortable. Well-dressed diners
and patrons cast cautiously scathing looks at him, and some even walked
around him to either avoid him or the smell of him. He reached to his neck
self-conciously as if there was a tie to adjust,
but he just ended up rubbing his chin and heading for the check-in desk. If
the looks the guests had given him had made him feel uncomfortable, the stare
of astonishment the Twi'lek check-in clerk gave him turned his stomach and
made him want to reach across the desk and punch his nose out of the back of
his head. He just gave a weak smile and spoke. “Room for one please, with a bathroom and
a Holovid-ordering facility.” The
clerk adjusted his own immaculately positioned collar and looked down at the
signing pad. “I’m not sure we have a room, sir. I’ll
just check with the floor manager.” Arroth
expected this. “Anyway, I just landed and I got over
twenty thousand credits spare. It would be a shame not to spoil myself a
little.” The
Twi'lek did not seem convinced. “Sir, this establishment...” “... is a hotel
to the paying customer.” Arroth finished the sentence for him and laid his
account card on the desk. The clerk picked it up and slid it through a
scanner, waiting for the account details to come up. He
watched the clerk’s eyes widen as account details flashed across the screen
and then turn to face him with agitation in his eyes. “Mister Quenn, I apologise for my conduct.
I’ll see about a room overlooking the city.” “Nothing fancy. Just a bed, bath and vid.
I need to order some fresh clothes. Oh, and can you arrange a robotaxi out the front, in, say, an hour and a half?” He
suddenly realised that the clerk may have seen his name on the screen and had
seen the same reports the pilot had seen. Well, maybe having a little
reputation was handy in some regards. “Of course. Do you have any luggage?” “Nope.” Arroth reached out and took the
small doorcard he was offered, and looked at the
room number. “D-twenty six on the fourth,” the clerk
said. Arroth
nodded and headed for the stairs after signing the check-in book. The
clerk watched him go. He rapped his fingers on the wooden desk as he watched
him disappear up the stairs, and then realise he had been holding his breath.
The door to the rear of him slid open, and another man came out, dressed in
the same suit as the clerk. “Was that...?” “Yeah, Arroth Quenn. Arroth frecking Quenn. Can you believe this?
That guy’s a hero!” The
newcomer waved his hand low to indicate the clerk should keep his voice down. “Let’s keep it between you and me, Clar, I
don’t want people checking out, worried about getting caught in a crossfire. I’ll go tell the boss, and you make sure he’s
well taken care of.” The
walk up the stairs made Arroth’s legs ache after
the long journey in the hopper, but he finally reached the elevator and pressed
the stud for his floor. More guests wound their way around him, and the
couple who had been waiting for the same lift as him stepped away, the
immaculately dressed woman reaching for her nose and making an obvious
expression of disgust. The man frowned, but then his own features changed to
surprise as he looked directly into Arroth’s face.
He took the lady by the elbow and steered her away, whispering into her ear
and casting glances back over his shoulder. Arroth
closed his eyes and shook his head as he turned away. The elevator chimed,
and he was glad when the doors opened and there were no other passengers. He
asked the autoselect for the fourth floor and
looked up at the level indicator as the lift car ascended. He
adjusted his shoulders and took a deep breath through his nose, suddenly
becoming aware of how badly he did smell. He became very lethargic on long
hauls in space, and couldn’t be bothered to wash or change, just think about
getting to his destination. The long trips made him very lazy. The
elevator chimed and the doors slid open. The first thing he saw was a large
imposing man with a stern visage and a bald head, who seemed to surge forward
into the lift. Arroth instinctively moved his right hand to his left hip, as
if reaching for an item. The large man noticed this reaction and gave him a
puzzled look. After
noticing the breast badge proclaiming the man as Hotel Security, Arroth
quickly stepped out of the lift and walked away, scratching his waist with
the guilty limb as if that had been his intended manoeuvre. He was aware of
the elevator chime taking longer than usual to sound and the doors to close
as he proceeded away from the security man, which
told him he was getting a long distrusting look from him. He reached his room
and opened the door without looking back. The
door slid shut behind him, and Arroth exhaled loudly with an exaggerated
groan and leaned against the entry hall wall. The lights came on
automatically and he checked out his surroundings. The
room was well laid out, with the large bedroom directly ahead and the toilet
facilities to his left. According to the notice he was leaning against,
everything in the room was voice activated, room service was available from
early morning to late evening and, in case of fire, you could run down the
corridor and make it down the stairs to the forecourt. “Chav,
two sweeteners,” he said to the drinks table. It immediately began gurgling
as it boiled water and dispensed the necessary condiments. “Shower, hot
water, warm not scalding.” The bathroom burst into life, the lights came on
and the shower activated. “Vid, consumer needs, standard buys.” The large
Holo-tank flickered as it activated. Arroth inserted his account credstick into a slot above the unit and started
unbuttoning his flight suit. “Vid, display clothes of casual and evening wear
to suit male, two metres, medium build, waist ninety-six, inside leg
one-oh-two. All latest fashions, nothing fancy though.” The
tank began to slowly scroll different styles and wear, listing only the
affordable items after scanning his card. As Arroth undressed, he took in the
details and imagined how he would look in the clothes displayed. “Vid, halt scroll. Purchase items seven,”
a dinner suit, “nine”, a pair of casual trousers and a bantha-leather
jacket, “and ten”, a special offer, this hour only, buy a pair of boots and
get a pair of evening shoes for half price. “Have items delivered within one
hour, and tip the delivery boy two creds.” The
vid acknowledged the transaction, and the tip, and then switched to standby. Arroth
picked up his jacket and ripped open a Velcro section of the inside lining.
From this he extracted a small cylindrical item. He did the same with
different sections of the jacket, and then proceeded to repeat the procedure
with the inside of his flight suit. In each hidden compartment there was a
metallic object. Each one was of various size and design. He
bundled up his clothes and placed them in the laundry chute, hearing the
slight vacuum in the tube suck the items down, and then a small credit charge
appeared on readout above the opening. Arroth
ignored the charge, knowing he could afford it on the credstick.
He laid out the items he had gathered on the bed. The
cylinder connected to the square box. The box to the oblong. The powerfeed slid into the cylinder. The larger cylinder
attached to the smaller one, which contained the exciter chamber. Arroth
meticulously assembled the Blaster he had smuggled through the sensors at the
ship port. He slammed the energy pack home, checked the readout on the side
of the weapon and checked the sight was working. There was no way the local
gun laws would allow him into the city or the vicinity for that matter, with
an unlicensed weapon. He slid the Blaster into the holster he had smuggled in
his flight suit leggings and put it under the pillows of the double bed. The
door to the room buzzed. Arroth placed his hand on the butt of his pistol
although he kept it hidden under the pillow and said, “Open door.” With
a hiss and a groan the door slid open, admitting a figure whose brown robes
swept to the floor, covering his body entirely. A facemask, consisting of two
large eyecovers and a double-filtered breathing
apparatus covered the entire face, but the hands, long-fingered and almost clumsy
looking, gave away the species as Mon Calamarian. Carlonian
Feese walked slowly into the room and up to Arroth. The slow breathing
through the mask grated Arroth’s nerves but he
didn’t show it. He
pulled out the pistol from under the pillow and showed it to Feese, then laid
it down on the table at the foot of the bed. Feese
checked the weapon over and nodded. “This is the weapon I supplied to you on
Galli Station. You smuggled it on-planet with no problems, I see.” “Along with the DL-2 spice and the small
explosive,” Arroth replied, pointing at his boots. “They’re in the heels of
my boots.” Seemingly pleased, Feese inspected the boots
and was satisfied when the items were indeed found secreted in the heels. “This is good,” Feese said. “Glann will be
pleased. Your reputation as a lawman has spread wide and far. I’m sure it
will make Glann’s investors happy to know that the most respected and trusted
peacekeeper is on Amagad. It will please Glann even more that the lawman is
also proficient in other forms of business.” He motioned at the items Arroth
had smuggled in. Arroth
nodded. “You point me at the bad guys you want
dealt with and I’ll do it. Anyone you want to get away with whatever it is
they’re doing, let me know beforehand or I’ll just
nail them like the rest. Agreed?” “Agreed. Be warned though, Arroth. Glann
likes results and he likes his people to be loyal.” “Yeah I heard that about him. Tell him
he’s got nothing to worry about from me, although my loyalty is measured in
hard currency.” Feese
turned for the door. “I know no other kind,” he said by way of
parting and exited the room. Arroth
Quenn had been hired. At least, as far as he could tell that was what had
just happened. There had been no talk of payment and no talk of contracts but
it hardly mattered. That would all come later and he guessed that Glann
needed more time to check his details. He had cash and time, he could wait. Three years lawman training, five
years on the legitimate job, and here I am hiring myself out to one of the
biggest crimelords about. Turn a blind eye, get
paid. Shoot the odd perp, get paid. No matter what
I do, I’m gonna get paid. Well. I am on Amagad. Hiring a Hero 2000 short story by Jonathan Hicks Under a year before Episode IV - A New Hope Histories - Utilising a RPG
character from the early 1990's, Jonathan
Hicks has drafted a story chronicling Arroth Quenns return to the city
of Amagad and his entry into the
services of Glann Cipple, the
governor of Amagad City. Cast of
Characters Arroth
Quenn Carlonian
Feese Clar |