Second Son
1987/1999/2005 story by Mark Newbold Three years before Episode IV - A New Hope “Did you see that?” “What?”
“What do you mean what? That frecking huge Star Destroyer that
just dropped into orbit behind us!” Jan
Lomona shook his head in annoyance as Latti Tellex, his co-pilot for the job,
shook away the cobwebs and scrambled to the controls, throwing a fake
signature at the massive Imperial behemoth, hoping to avoid its tractor beam
and the concurrent boarding that would follow. Jan eyed the destroyer through the cockpit
window and watched his scanners closely as he swung the Berone Sunrise around in a circle. He was pumping out a false transponder
code, but still the I.S.D followed, deploying a stream of T.I.E fighters
after them and edging closer by the second.
Whoever was commanding the I.S.D wanted the Berone Sunrise and its occupants. Damn, I knew this
would be a hot job. Ever
since Jan had agreed to get heavily involved in a free-lance weapons
smuggling operation with his friend Latti Tellex he’d been on the run from
trouble. Landing on the arid planet Gribian
had led to a clandestine meeting with the Gribian Gun Brigade, a group of
freedom fighters trying to rid their world of the blight of the Empire. It was a foolish hope, Jan was experienced
enough to see that, but he gave them credit for their guts and besides, he
was set to make a hefty profit. After
a few run ins with the local Imperial garrison all was set, the money was
paid and the weapons handed over when Jan was contacted by Sasn, an envoy
from the second government of Agubia who wanted a trade route up and running
to his Imperial-occupied world at a good price and in the shortest time
possible. And Jan, being Jan, agreed
to this, his ego inflated beyond its usual parameters. Boy, do I wish I’d learned to keep
my big mouth shut… The
I.S.D had appeared seemingly out of nowhere, dropping onto their tail like a
fighter instead of a destroyer, and Jan had been caught napping. Latti, for his part, was actually asleep
when Lomona saw the sensor shadow engulf his screen and yelled out in
surprise. Whoever was commanding that
ship sure knew a few tricks. “How we coming on with the nava solution
Latt?” asked Jan, his hands seemingly everywhere as they skipped across the
console, trying to evade capture.
Latti frowned and inputted another set of numbers. “Not good, the atmosphere of Gribian is
tough to break away from. It’ll take a
few moments.” Moments we don’t have thought Jan as he left his seat and squeezed past
his trusty droid Aurran who was entering the cockpit to assist. “Take the big seat. And don’t let him touch anything!” Jan pointed at Latti who gave a half
embarrassed smile in return. The old
droid dropped into the pilot’s seat and began dodging and weaving the stock
heavy freighter away from the evading T.I.E.’s, making them a tougher target
to hit and track, just keeping them out of firing range. Jan
sprinted down the spine of the ship, past the sleeping quarters and galley,
through the lounge area and the gun bubble into the cargo hold. He checked left and right before he found
what he was looking for. “Aah, you beauty! Troopie, get your three-legs here pronto!” The
small blue and yellow Astromech trundled into the cargo bay from the engine
room where he had been trying to give the Sunrise
more power, but to no avail. Jan knew
why – the quadex power core he’d had installed simply didn’t give the large
freighter enough oomph, one of the
reasons he had chanced his arm with Latti on this job. If we
don’t get away from that I.S.D soon I’ll have no need for a second quadex
power core. I won’t have a ship to put
it in. He kneeled down in front of
the little droid and spoke directly into its eye. “Okay, I need you to depressurise the
cargo hold. Everything valuable is safe
down below in the fridge,” He referred to the refrigerated compartments below
where he stored tonnes of illegal goods, usually sugar, herbs and spice. In Setnin, sugar held a high value and he
had no moral qualms about ferrying the outlawed foodstuff. Spice was another issue, but one with which
he could still sleep at night. “Hold
on tight and make sure this,” he tapped the top of the crate. “Goes out first. Got it?” The
droid whistled in the affirmative and Jan nodded and stepped out of the cargo
hold. He watched as Troopie manoeuvred
the crate into the centre of the room, loosening the lid and then with a
thump the room depressurised and all the contents evacuated into space except
for the droid who remained rooted to the spot, his magnetic feet holding him
firm to the solid deck plates, a thick packing cable wound around his trunk. Jan smacked his hands together in
satisfaction and raced back to the cockpit. “What did you do?” asked Latti as Jan
dived back in to the seat Aurran had just vacated. Jan waggled his eyebrows as he swung the Sunrise away from the arc of the
planet and towards the blanket of deep space, bound for Amagad and a meeting
with another old smuggler friend. “That, my friend, was the sound of
victory. Those scummers think I’ve
dropped my cargo and slowed the destroyer down to investigate.” He checked the console and grinned
again. “Not that it matters. They’ve just tractored in a crate of
Wennicasian Stink Eels.” He checked
his console and raised an eyebrow at Latti.
“It’s usually the obvious ones that work best. Hold on to your hats.” Jan
Lomona pulled back the levers and spun his freighter into the depths of
hyperspace. Amagad
was as hectic as ever as the mid-morning speeder rush continued in the lanes
below. Jan taxied the Sunrise low over the lanes and estates
that ivy-crept their way up the side of Mount Fava towards the well-deep
docking bays of Amagad City, cruising only a few meters above the highest
buildings. Below, the denizens of
Amagad barely glanced upwards, such approaches in the city being commonplace
and Jan grinned as he swung the Sunrises’
nose around. Hovering above one of the
larger bays on repulsors he lowered his freighter and executed a soft
landing, her engines humming and cooling efficiently. “Okay, that’s another one done.” Jan scratched his head and grinned at Latti
beside him, shaking his hand in good humour.
“Let me know when you get any more side jobs like that.” Latti
nodded as he popped the last of his bag of Cockons into his mouth. “Will
do. I’ll make sure the Imps don’t get
wind of us next time.” “That would be a bonus.” “See you in Zythlies Jan.” Lomona
gave a thumbs up and carried on with his system
checks as Latti rose to leave the cockpit, grabbing his gear and bidding
farewell to Jan and the droids.
Satisfied that all was correct he grabbed the flask of jet juice he
always kept under the dash and took a chug, watching the port staff busy
themselves around the landing gears of his ship, hooking up power units and
checking the freighter for damage. It
was a more costly port fee he paid, but he’d found it beneficial to lay out
the extra expense. While Troopie and
Aurran caught most things, some damage evaded them and it always paid to have
an extra set of eyes. He
checked his chrono and was surprised to find that it had already gone 10.00
hours, and he wondered if the person he had travelled back to Amagad to
specifically see would even be on-world.
After all, most of his former co-pilots had a habit of getting
themselves into trouble, and Ocern Gabe was no different. He flicked on the Sunrises comm. unit and waited for a connection. After a few seconds the line activated. “Morning Jan, what can I do for you?” Ocern’s crisp authoritative voice broke
through the ether as Jan leaned forward in his seat. “Actually it’s more about what I can do
for you. How would you like to use
those legendary gun running skills of yours again?” There
was a pause at the other end of the line as Gabe weighed up the
question. In past years the Ishi Tibb
smuggler had gained a reputation as a master gun runner, but in recent years
of Imperial blockades and increased security he had wound down that aspect of
his trade. “I’m not sure Jan. Sounds a touch risky to me. You know how the lanes are being blockaded
these days. I’ve put all that behind
me.” Jan
grimaced silently, fearing that reaction from his friend. He changed tack. “Look, are you free to meet up
somewhere? In about an hour?” “I can be.” Another pause. “Is this a job for Cipple?” Jan
raised his eyebrows as he glanced out of the cockpit window and up the high
walls of the deep bay where, just visible on the skyline he could see the
very top of Glann Cipples Fortress, sat squarely on the flattened peak of the
long extinct volcano. The Governor of
Amagad and head of the Setnin underworld had eyes that saw far, wide and deep
and he knew he would have to be very sassy to get away with this one. “This one’s strictly between you and
me. Fifty-fifty cut of the profits and
all the kudos that goes with it.” “I don’t need kudos Jan, already got plenty.” Gabe cleared his throat. “But if you feel so strongly about this,
I’d be a fool not to hear you out.
Vondors Bar Grill and Steak at eleven suit you?” “Suits me sir. See you there.” Jan
closed the line with a triumphant thump of the air and bounced out of his
seat to confer with Aurran. Ocern Gabe
was among the most experienced and wise smugglers on the lanes and was always
willing to pass on tips and knowledge to the younger guys like Jan. Lomona liked the Ishi Tibb and valued his
friendship, but primarily he drank from his experience with a thirst and
watched everything he did intently. If
he could be persuaded to join him on this trip he would be in a very good
spot indeed. “Aurran, sort me out a drink will ya old
pal.” Despite the early hour Jan knew
the droid would prepare him an alcoholic drink, but that made little
difference. A-desandians were exempt
from alcohols intoxicating effects, a biological bonus that had helped him
many times in difficult negotiations.
“I’ve got an hour to figure out how I’m gonna sell this job to Ocern.”
Aurrans
head appeared from the steps that led down to the cramped galley below. “Of course Master Jan.” Jan
grabbed a datapad and tossed it onto his bed as he snapped open the press
studs on his shirt and changed. Better make this the best pitch of your
career Jan. Ocern could be the deal
breaker on this one. “Agubia?
In the Gervlin System?” Gabe’s
yellow eyes glanced away in thought, shaking his wide, starfish-shaped
head. “I don’t know Jan; there are a
lot of Imperial bases in that area.” Jan
shrugged in a careless manner as he watched the cook slap another steak onto
the broad bar that doubled as a grill.
His stomach rumbled in anticipation. “So?
Ocern, you’re a hot smuggler. I’m a hot pilot. I just outran an Imperial Star Destroyer,
so why would another one bother us?
Besides,” He lifted his glass and drank deep. “What are the odds of being chased twice in
two days?” Gabe
had to admit the odds were pretty narrow, but if the I.S.D had got a positive
reading of the Berone Sunrises’
transponder codes… “And before you even think it, I changed my transponder codes. They thought they were about to board a
Janite Freighter called the Murdered
Sun. And anyway, they’ll be too
busy covering up the smell of those Stink Fish to come looking for us.” Ocern
smiled and nodded. “So let me get this straight. You were contacted by an envoy about
setting up a trade run to Agubia.” “Yep.” “Past Imperial blockades.” “A-huh.” “Smuggling food, clothes, weapons,
everything.” “You got it.” Ocern
squinted as he eyed Jan closely. “And what did you say my cut was?” Jan
hid his grin. Got him! “Fifty-fifty, straight down the
middle.” He waved over the serving
droid as it brought their drinks and food and gave the steak sandwich a
satisfied look as he took a mouthful and washed it down with a swig of
Shiba-Di’xx. Jan waited for Ocern to
say something else, but when the old smuggler shrugged and took a peck with
his beak out of the packed sandwich Jan knew he didn’t have to say another
word. Game on. “I just give up, I really do.” Jan’s
heart sank as the Interdictor, hyperspace nullifiers scattered across its
hull like boils, filled the cockpit window.
Behind it he could see the pale outline of a larger vessel and knew
without doubt that it was a star destroyer.
Ocern gave the younger man a look of disdain as he opened the comm.
channel in response. “This is the Murdered Sun flying out of Woron.
How can we assist?” Ocern
adopted his strongest, most stern voice, hoping he would pass muster as a
citizen of Janos and avoid a boarding.
The line crackled with static. “Murdered
Sun, this is the star destroyer Barbarian. Power down your engines and prepare to be
tractored in.” Ocern
gave Lomona a quick glance but Jan shook his head and began cutting back the
engines. Even if they could outrun the
destroyers they would have a hoard of T.I.E fighters after them, and the
interdictor would stop them from jumping to hyperspace. In any event, they were caught like flies
in amber. Ocern activated the line
again. “Copy that Barbarian, engines down.” The
two sat in stony silence as the Sunrise
was gripped in the invisible hold of the tractor beam and briskly pulled
underneath the destroyer and into one of the smaller docking bays below. Shadows cast over the stock heavy
freighter, making the mood of the lighting as dark as that in the cockpit. At the rear of the ship they could hear
Aurran and Troopie secure any illegal cargoes in the concealed refrigerated
compartments and then lock themselves in, covering
the floor above them to appear like regular deckplating. “What
are the odds of being chased twice in two days he says? Ha!” Jan
turned to glare at Gabe. “Hey, don’t start on me. If you’re so damn smart and you knew this
was gonna happen, why’d you come?” Ocern
grimaced as he stared ahead. “Because I thought you’d know better by
now. Didn’t I teach you
anything?” He looked away and below as
Imperial troops began to fill the bay.
“Besides, jobs with you usually bring in serious credits. And that goes a long way towards my
retirement.” “Plenty of time for the Old Spacers
Home.” Jan leaned forward to get a
better view of their predicament.
“Right now we’ve got other priorities.” The
docking bay was lined with Stormtroopers, T.I.E fighter pilots and other
assorted Imperial troopers. Jan could
see racks of Probe Droids line the walls and at the rear of the cargo hold AT-ST’s
standing under dust sheets. The
freighter touched down gently and he closed his eyes, tense for what was
about to come. Experience
told both Jan and Ocern that it was unwise to keep their hosts waiting and so
they immediately opened the ramp and unarmed they
began to walk down, hands folded behind their heads. A phalanx of blasters
were trained upon them and Jan felt naked without his pistol, but knew
that to carry it would have invited problems. And he’d had enough of those
for a lifetime already. Waiting
for them at the bottom of the ramp stood a black uniformed Imperial officer,
a stern look clouding his features. He
gave Jan and Ocern a disdainful look as he waited for two Stormtroopers to
frisk them down and once clear he motioned for them to follow. Jan caught the glance from Ocern as they
followed, lowering their hands to their sides. While Jan, an A-desandian, would likely be
treated briskly but fairly, as an alien Gabe would in all likelihood be
treated altogether differently. The
Empire had little time for its non-human population, other than using them as
slave labour. They
left the docking bay as a scanning team boarded the Sunrise and strode into a narrow corridor to a turbo lift that
waited with four armed Stormtroopers already inside. In silence they rode up for a few short
seconds and exited directly into a square office, dark grey walls illuminated
by concealed lighting. The officer
walked past them to a desk and seated himself, shuffling through a batch of
flims and eventually looked up. “I’m Lieutenant Tastor.” He said, voice rich and flowing like treacle. Jan gave Gabe another glance, but the Ishi
Tibb kept his yellow-eyed stare straight ahead. The Imperial shared a glance between the
two. “Your papers say you fly from out
of Woron on Janos.” Gabe
nodded and Jan replied. “That’s right.” Tastor
looked Jan and then Ocern up and down, a look of obvious disbelief on his
face. He raised an eyebrow at Jan. “You I can just about believe. But you,”
His voice trailed off as he looked away from Ocern and back at his
details. “Your kind isn’t welcome on
Janos.” “What do you mean my kind?” began Ocern angrily, but stopped as he felt a nudge
from Jans boot and caught a look from the A-desandian that spoke
volumes. Imperials thought little of
alien lives, and Tastor was clearly a man with a job to do and therefore not
to be trifled with. There would be
other days to tackle Imperial bigotry and racism but today wasn’t it. Tastor continued. “We have checked your details.” He glanced at Jan again. “Captain Joel St. John. You’re wanted on five worlds for a number
of petty crimes committed over the past six months. Non payment of docking fines, missed
finance payments, overdue taxes.” He
raised an eyebrow as he again looked Jan up and down. “About what I would expect from an
A-desandian. And you. It says your name is Bree Goator. You’re record is as spotless as a Hoth
greeting card.” Tastor raised a
distrustful eyebrow. “Which I don’t
believe for a second.” Gabe
continued to stare ahead as Tastor stood from his desk and walked around the
table. Jan knew Ocern had a long, long
fuse which was one of the reasons why he had survived so long in the business
and he also knew Tastor was taking his time while his crew gave the Sunrise a thorough scan. But while this appeared to be settling down
into a routine spot-check Jan also knew that it wouldn’t take much to spark
Tastor’s ire. He’d seen many men just
like him when he was a boy on A-desando.
Watched them as his mother, father and elder brother mixed with them
as they rose through the ranks of the military. His entire family has been loyal to the
A-desandian military, the Separatist movement and finally the New Order. Jan was well aware of their shallow vanity
and power-hungry scrabblings. It was
one of the reasons he had been so eager to leave A-desando behind. “My record is as it appears. Captain St. John and I were on our way to Agubia
for a routine stop-over when you pulled us in for inspection.” He glanced out of the hexagonal window at
the team below as it exited the freighter.
“I assure you, there is nothing illegal on that ship.” “Oh I’m sure there is Goator. It
matches the description of a Desando Dynamics freighter that evaded capture
two days ago. Clever piloting. They dumped their cargo right before
jumping to hyperspace.” He eyed Jan
closely. “A crate of Wennicasian Stink
Eels. Would you know anything about
that Captain St. John?” Somehow
Jan managed to keep a placid face as he answered. “No Lieutenant. I know nothing about Stink Eels. Not my speciality.” Tastor
narrowed his eye as he gritted his teeth and moved back to the communications
panel which was bleeping for his attention.
He answered it with a snap. “Yes?” “Sir,
we’ve scanned the ship but all we found was a bottle of Duarga without the
shipping and tax details displayed.
The rear cargo compartment was empty and there are no signs of recent
usage.” Jan
smiled inwardly. Bless you Aurran; you’re the best housekeeping droid a guy could want. Tastor
leaned in to the mike and growled. “Be sure your men haven’t made any
mistakes sergeant. If I find any
negligence it rests on your head, do I make myself clear?” “Yes
sir.” Tastor
chewed his lip in thought as he looked back at Jan and Ocern. “It appears your cover story has held up. A fine of one hundred credits for the
illegal liquor plus the accumulated fines will be levied to you St. John.” Jan winced inwardly as he hastily totted up
the total, and outwardly as the final figure came up just shy of five
thousand credits. “And you
Goator. I’m watching you. Put one foot out of line and you’ll go down
faster than an Endor sunset.” Ocern
said nothing as Tastor motioned for the guards to lead them back to the Sunrise. As they left the room and began to descend
in the turbolift he thumbed another toggle on the communications board. “Captain, we scanned the vessel but there
was nothing illegal on board. Their
papers check out but I still believe we should hold them for further
questioning.” He curled a lip at the
thought of the unflappable Ishi Tibb.
“Something about this doesn’t add up.” “As ever I agree with your instincts Lieutenant,
but if they’re clean then they’re clean.”
There was a pause. “Clear the
docking bay and return to synchronous orbit.
Scramble a squadron of fighters to sweep the major cities and make our
presence known. Agubia may think it
has managed to outsmart us, and for now let them think they’ve
succeeded. We’ll flatten that supply
line soon enough. I want concrete
evidence of who’s supplying them. Find
that out Lieutenant and I assure
you, we won’t be patrolling Mid-Rim worlds for much longer.” “Agreed sir. Tastor out.” “Now if getting out of that hole doesn’t
make you believe in a higher power then nothing will.” Jan took another forkful of his steak and
grinned. “My guardian angel must be
doing some serious overtime.” Gabe
nodded and smiled as he took a beak full of sun seeds and began to nibble
away. They were seated at a large
table close to the window of the Salern Tarr Restaurant, the early evening
sun bathing the city in a rich lavender glow.
Above, another wing of T.I.E fighters buzzed low over the rooftops,
making their presence known. It was a
tactic used often and to great effect by Imperial forces across the
galaxy. The art of intimidation was a
cheap and effective tool, even more so when backed by the might of the
Imperial war machine. Jan cocked his
head towards the window and the low flying fighters. “Tastor sure got his panties in a bunch
over us.” Ocern
nodded thoughtfully. “Not just Tastor. He wasn’t the ships commander, he was only
the second-in-command.” Gabe lowered
his head and levelled Jan with a serious stare. “We need to watch our step.” Jan
finished a mouthful of steak and cockily shook his head. “Relax will ya, everything’s under
control. Our papers held up, the cargo
wasn’t detected. Sasn will be here
soon to finalise everything.” He waved
a hand at Gabe in a mock dismissive manner.
“We drop the cargo, get paid and scratch gravel. What could be easier than that?” “The way you tell it, it would be harder
to fall off a log. I’m just saying;
keep your wits about you. Nothing
overly cautious in that.” Jan
paused, his fork hovering by his mouth as he motioned again to the square
outside. “Speaking of which.” A
large Imperial troop carrier broke off from its T.I.E escorted flyby and
dropped down into the square, moving the early evening commuters and
revellers to the edges of the plaza.
Jan lowered his fork and took a quick shot of spice water as Gabe
cocked his head. “Still think I’m paranoid?” The
ramp lowered and four eight-man squads disembarked, spreading outwards
through the square and towards the offices and complexes that lined it. Jan gave Gabe a momentary glance and
frowned as he saw Ocern’s face crumple. “What?” “Sasn.
Dammit, he’s just come in through the rear entrance. He couldn’t have seen the troop carrier
land.” He looked directly at Jan. “If we’re caught talking to him we’re
finished, false papers or not.” Jans
mind raced. Gabe was right; being caught
by the Empire talking to Sasn would be a certain giveaway. But without sealing the deal and handing
over the goods they wouldn’t get paid, and nobody would win but the
Empire. He gritted his teeth. “Come on, let’s move.” Jan
stood and moved from the table as a four Stormtroopers swerved their way
through the crowds towards the Salern Tarr.
Jan noticed Sasn smile as he spotted the tall A-desandian and began to
move towards them and, having caught the Agubian mans eye made a one-hundred
and eighty degree circle motion with his hand – turn around. Sasn raised an alarmed eyebrow and did so,
slowing to allow Lomona and Gabe to catch up.
They took an elbow each and led him back the way he came, through the
rear door and back onto the street. “Sasn, glad you could make it. It looks like the Empire has decided to
increase their presence on Agubia, so we’d better make this fast and
snappy. You got the papers?” Sasn
began to protest but continued to unclasp his briefcase and retrieve the
papers. He handed them over to Jan. “What’s going on Captain St. John? Is there something I should know about?” “You could say that.” Jan signed the flim using his alias but
left the top copy, usually the one he took for himself, with Sasn. The last thing he needed was to be caught
red-handed by the Empire with evidence connecting him to a gun-running plot
on Agubia, and even though Sasn held the same evidence Jan thought the
likelihood of Sasn being picked up was far less than his own, he was just
another face in a very big crowd while Jan often stood out. After all, Tastor had made it clear they
were being watched. Unused to the
details of such matters Sasn didn’t notice.
Ocern took him by the shoulders and spoke in a steady, even voice. “We were boarded, but they found
nothing. Nevertheless they are
suspicious, hence the troopship. The
cargo will be dropped at the pre-arranged co-ordinates. Upon collection you will then transfer the
money to Captain St. Johns account. Understood?” He waited for Sasn to nod, which he did
with a vague look of panic on his face.
“Go, now, and don’t stop for anyone.
Understand?” “I do.
Thank you Captain.” He shook
both men’s hands. “Agubia won’t forget
this.” “That’s great,” said Jan casting a look
down the street. He could see lights
swirling down by the junction and turned back to the smaller man. “Just make sure you forget about us. Go.” They
watched Sasn as he looked left and right and briskly walked into the swelling
crowd, to the untrained eye just another evening commuter but to the keen eye
a frightened mammal in a pit of reptiles.
Jan blew out a long breath and looked at Gabe. “You still think this is going to go
wrong?” Ocern
gave him a silent nod. Jan cursed in
A-desandian. He agreed. “I hate
it when you’re right.” Jan
pointed down the street towards the docking bay and the Sunrise, where he planned on making a few last minute
checks. The crowd from the square has
spilled into the surrounding streets and soon they were pushing their way
through swarms of bodies towards the stock heavy freighter. Finally they entered the perimeter fence of
the starport and made their way down a fenced walkway to the broad, pit-holed
area that housed their docking bay and their ship. Jan paid the Portmaster his fee and they
trotted around the corner to his ship… Where
a squad of Stormtroopers and Lieutenant Tastor stood waiting. “Going somewhere Captain St. John?” Jan
blew out another long breath and put his hands on his hips, his head hung low
as the troops approached. Tastor
clasped his hands behind his back. “You really should take more care of who
you socialise with Captain. By all
accounts your Agubian friend was quite the talker, and we both know that
careless talk costs lives.” He
squinted through a smile. “It
certainly cost him his.” Jan
levelled Tastor with a cold stare as his hands were cuffed together. Tastor returned it. “I think it’s time you were introduced to
my commanding officer. If you’ll
follow me.” Tastor
led the way out of the docking bay, and as he was shoved into motion Jan gave
his ship a sad stare. Damn… Jan
had been waiting in the holding cell for almost an hour, separated from Ocern
as soon as they had disembarked from the shuttle. Tastor had given Jan the usual vague
threatening talk as they were being ferried back up to the I.S.D Barbarian,
and Lomona managed to stay alert while running scenarios through his
mind. He thought Gabe was likely doing
the same, his wide starfish head remaining still as he swam in deep thought,
ignoring Tastor’s barbed comments. I’ve just got away with being wanted on
five planets and now I’m implicated in a gun smuggling racket to an Imperial
held world, thought Jan to himself.
Well, Joel St. John has. But that don’t help me none, if they knew I
was Jan Lomona they’d probably do away with the life sentence and just
execute me right now. His
thoughts were interrupted as the door to his cell slid aside and two
Stormtroopers appeared, guns levelled directly at him. With a weary sigh he stood, towering over
both of them and walked down the holding cell corridor towards another
turbolift where, in silence he was ferried up and up towards what he guessed
were the command areas of the ship.
His trip ended in a small room with a desk sitting central within it,
a single cold light illuminating from its concealed housing. He sat and watched as the troops closed the
door and again he was alone. “So,” he said to the darkness, attempting
to gee himself up. “Gotta tell ya, the
service in this place is terrible.
Haven’t even been offered a drink yet.” There was no answer, and he didn’t expect
one. The silence was beginning to
disturb him and he stood to his feet. “Sit down Jan.” He
frowned, not sure where the voice came from.
If he hadn’t known better he’d have sworn he’d uttered it himself, it
sounded just like his own voice but he was alone. He turned around, looking the walls up and
down. “The name’s Joel, just so you know.” Jan waited for another reply. “I’m sorry; I thought you were someone
else.” A short pause. “In that case maybe I’d better leave you to
your sentencing.” “Hey, hey, now let’s not be hasty here.”
Said Jan, turning again as he addressed the darkness. “Everything’s open for negotiation. You wanna call me Jan, fine, whatever
floats your skiff.” “What were you doing down there Captain?”
asked the voice calmly. Jan frowned
again, the familiarity of the voice infuriating him. “And don’t give me the `It was a routine stop-over’ line.” Jan
seated himself and leaned back in the seat, crossing one leg across the
other. “First things first. Who am I talking to?” “That’s not important. Just answer the question.” Jan
shook his head. “Uh-uh, I’m not singing until you tell me
who you are.” There
was a pause, and the sound of someone moving. “I’m the captain of this vessel and the
man asking the questions. Again, what
were you doing on Agubia?” Jan
shrugged broadly. “Seems to me you already know the answer,
and if you don’t then I’m not connecting the dots for you.” “Captain Lomo…Captain St. John,” the man
barely caught himself. “I am well
aware that your involvement in this gun running scam is just a small part of
a much larger operation. If you
co-operate and tell me the source of the operation I can arrange for your
sentence to be much more lenient, possibly even nullified.” Jan
couldn’t hold in the snort of barely disguised disgust at that offer. “And why would an Imperial Commander want
to do that?” A
door behind Jan slid open and in the doorway stood the familiar silhouette of
a man easily as tall as Jan. “Because that’s what brothers do.” Ocern
furrowed his brow as he looked at the assortment of documents and flims on
the table and back up at the interrogation officer. “Just explain to me again. You are offering to release me if I tell
you the brains behind this gun running operation? The operation I repeatedly keep telling you
I know nothing whatsoever about?”
Ocern looked back at the documents.
“I am almost tempted to tell you what you want to hear, but given my
complete lack of knowledge of the underworld I believe my answer would be
transparently false.” Interrogation
officer Doksop nodded and pushed himself away from the desk, walking slowly
around the desk behind Ocern. “Listen Goator, I wasn’t born
yesterday. I know you’ve got something to do with this scam. My instructions are to find out the source
and to release you with your correct documentation. What is it about that you don’t get?” “The part where I know what the devil you
are talking about.” Answered Ocern, faking innocence. If they only knew that this gun smuggling
deal was a one man operation run by Lomona, with Ocern there as back up and
offering his knowledge, they’d throw them into the nearest airlock and eject
them into space. Better then to keep
up the pretence. “Officer, I wish I
could be of more assistance, but really I can’t.” Doksop
nodded and blew out an annoyed breath, shaking his head. He took a mouthful of water from a beaker
by the door and sat down again. “Alright Goator, from the top. Name?” “Hijjin?” “Jan.
It’s been a long time.” Jan
couldn’t believe his eyes as he watched his elder brother enter the room as
the door closed behind him. He hadn’t
laid eyes on his brother for almost ten years, not since he had left
A-desando in his first starship bound for the stars. He had heard through friends and family
that his brother had been progressing through the ranks of the Imperial
military, but not as high as the level of Star Destroyer Captain. Jan was genuinely speechless. Hijjin continued. “I’ve
been assigned to the sector for six months, since I got command of the
Barbarian. Before that I was in charge
of smaller ships, military attaché vessels.”
He stood by the desk, looking down at his younger brother. “Your ship gets noticed every now and
then. I’m surprised this is the first
time we’ve crossed paths.” “Sorry to disappoint you.” answered Jan,
finding his voice. He stood slowly to
his feet and looked his brother in the eye, no emotion or betrayal of
thoughts registering on his face. The
elder Lomona returned the look until he broke it off and began to move around
the desk. Jan watched him closely. “First things first. The gun running operation. What is your part in it?” Jan
narrowed his eyes as he regarded his brother with suspicion, and Hijjin
nodded, noting the look. “I’m a Star Destroyer captain. I have an element of latitude in matters
such as this. Believe me; I only want
to know who the man at the top is.
You’re just the middleman.” Jan
looked away and scratched his head. “Well, actually I’m kind of not.” “What do you mean?” “I am
the operation Hijj,” replied Jan, using the abbreviation his brother used to
hate. “I set up the deal, ran the
blockade and delivered the goods.” He
rubbed his hand across his forehead.
“At least, that was the plan until you
showed up.” Hijjin
looked away, pausing to find the right words to express how he felt. It seemed he wasn’t the only one climbing
the career ladder and that his younger sibling had shinnied up a few ladders himself. “By the five fire rings…Jan, I can’t keep
protecting you like this.” Jan
frowned and stepped back to the desk, placing his hands flat upon it. “Protecting me like what exactly?” Hijjin
joined Jan at the desk. “Like this. Cleaning up your messes, sweeping up after
you’ve blown through places like a hurricane.
I did it for you when we were kids and I’m still doing it for you
now.” Jan
gave Hijjin a warning look and bit back his immediate reply. “Hey, whoa, you never did a damn thing for me when we were kids. You were too busy playing soldiers to
notice I was even there.” Hijjin
shook his head. “You never had a kid brother Jan. I had two.
We lost one, so it was just you and me.” They both fell silent for a moment as they
thought back to their deceased brother Luude who had died so young. “I may not have fussed over you like other
people did but I always made sure you were okay.” Jan
couldn’t resist a smile as he drew a blank trying to remember Hijjins acts of
kindness. “When exactly did all this brotherly love
happen? All I remember is you thumping
the crud out of me and getting me into trouble all the time.” Hijjin
pushed away from the table again and turned his back on Jan. “You haven’t changed a bit, have you? You sound just like you did when you
left. No one did anything for you, no
one cared and it was never your
fault.” He turned back to face
Jan. “Well boo-hoo for you, I’m sorry
you’ve got such a lousy memory.” “Ahh, get bent.” snarled Jan as he sat
back down, folding his arms. Hijjin
gave his brother a dangerous glance over his shoulder and drew a deep breath. “Imperial Intelligence is going to want to
know who’s running this smuggling racket.”
He cast a glance towards the door.
“I could pin it on your smuggler friend.” “Ocern?”
Jan kicked himself inwardly as he said his friends’ real name. “He had nothing to do with it; he was just
along for the ride.” “Well someone has to pay. Someone always does.” Hijjin came back to the table. “So what’s it going to be Jan? Who’s going to cover your tracks now?” Jan
growled as he stood to his feet. “Alright, alright, you’ve made your
point.” He rubbed his temples as he
paced the room. “So what do you want
me to do? I mean there’s always a
price, right? Someone’s got to pay.” Hijjin
relaxed and seated himself at the table, waiting for Jan to do the same. They sat in silence for a few moments. “Mother wants you back home.” Jan
raised his eyebrows and laughed out loud. “Yeah, right,
like that’s gonna happen.” “I’m serious Jan. You left without saying a word to any of
us. Uncle Ade knew more than anyone,
but he and Father don’t see eye to eye...” “Another family trait we share.” interjected Jan. “…so we had to guess a lot of what happened.”
finished Hijjin. Jan regarded him
again, all traces of humour gone. “You’re serious aren’t you?” “Deadly.” Jan
shook his head in disbelief. “Hell Hijj, she hates me even more than
you do.” “You are so wrong about all this. I
don’t hate you, Mother doesn’t hate you.
No one hates you Jan. We’re just…” his voice trailed off as Jan
nodded in understanding. “You’re just disappointed in me, right?” “Right.” admitted Hijjin. “I mean look at you. A common smuggler, a con man, a thief. You fly from one job to the next, scamming
people, running blockades, breaking the law like it’s an inconvenience.” He fixed Jan with a cold stare. “And you have the nerve to call yourself a
Lomona.” “Don’t you dare judge me. You know nothing about my life.” “I know enough. I know enough to know that one day you’ll
realise the waste you’ve made of your life, but it will be too late to do
anything about it. You spend your life
breaking the law while I spend mine upholding it. You wouldn’t know an honest days work if it
slapped you across the face; I know nothing else.” Jan
looked at Hijjin like he had gone crazy. “You’re an officer in the Empire for freck’s sake, what would you know about honesty?” Hijjin
jabbed a finger at his brother. “Now don’t you judge me. I chose
this life.” Jan
nodded at his brother. “Then we finally agree on something
because I chose mine too.” As
Hijjin was about to answer the communications panel buzzed and he reached
over to answer it. “Yes Officer, what is it.” “Sir,
the prisoner is sticking to his initial story. He claims he doesn’t know where the source
of the smuggling operation starts.” Hijjin
raised an eyebrow at Jan as the smuggler listened intently and returned his
attention to the panel. “Very well. Release the prisoner immediately and ferry
him back to the planet.” “Very
good sir.” Hijjin
closed the line and glanced at Jan again, who nodded in approval. “Thanks.” “Don’t mention it.” He leaned in again. “Mother.
Will you see her?” Jan
knew he had little choice, not if he wanted his friend Ocern safe and his
liberty back. He nodded slowly and
gave his brother a half-hearted smile. “Sure, why not. I guess now’s as good a time as any to face
the dragon.” Jan stood and eyed Hijjin
closely. “The smuggling run I was
doing. It’s dead, right?” Hijjin
nodded in silence as Jan smiled sadly. “I thought so. And the envoy from the second Agubian
government. Is he really dead?” “Yes.
Lieutenant Tastor can be overzealous at times.” Jan
frowned at the thought of Tastor and his creepy demeanour. “He’s a real charmer. He doesn’t like you much either.” Hijjin
smiled broadly, a smile laced with satisfaction. “I shouldn’t think so. He was passed over for promotion when they
brought me in to command the ship.” “Nice way to operate, with your crew
hating your guts.” “It’s the way the Empire operates. This is a Star Destroyer, not a cruise
ship. Everything happens for a
reason.” Jan
couldn’t argue with that. “I guess everything does happen for a reason.” Jan
entered the Sunrise and slumped
down in the acceleration couch opposite the ramp with a heavy sigh. Ocern noticed the sound of his return and
poked his head from out of his quarters, moving into the corridor as Aurran
and Troopie made their way to the main area.
Jan looked tired and Gabe waited a moment for the towering A-desandian
to collect his thoughts. “The deal’s off. Sasn is dead and the Empire knows we’re
behind the operation.” Ocern
gave Jan a worried look as he sat down beside him on the couch. “They know? So why aren’t we in a detention cell
waiting for sentencing?” Jan
gave a sad laugh under his breath as he patted Ocern on the shoulder. “Let’s just say it’s who you know and not
what you know and leave it at that, okay.”
He pushed himself wearily to his feet and shambled to the shower
room. “Guys, could you prep the ship
for take-off in about two hours. I
need a shave and a stiff drink somewhere quiet before we head back to
Amagad.” “Certainly Master Jan.” answered Aurran as
he and the blue and yellow Astromech droid began to busy themselves with
tasks. Ocern remained silent as he
looked down the ramp at the permacrete docking bay floor below, the sky now dark
and threatening. He cleared his
throat. “You going to tell me what happened up
there?” The
sound of the shower kicking in rattled the metal pan of the shower floor as
Jan stuck his head around the door. “Let’s wait until we hit hyperspace, then
I’ll fill you in on the details.” Ocern
knew better than to pressure his good friend and turned his attention to ship
business. An
hour had passed and Jan Lomona figured he had just enough time for a couple
of drinks before their launch window expired.
The skies of Agubia were surprisingly busy, and with an I.S.D in orbit
it wasn’t wise to be too smart about piloting a path away from the planet,
regardless of whatever pull he might have with its captain. And besides, Portmaster Oldorn had been obstructive
enough when he dealt with him pleasantly so there was no knowing how he would
be if Jan decided to get smart. The
cantina was a nameless barn on the outskirts of town, close to the rear of
the cargo port. A large area of scrub
land lay behind it, and then beyond to a field of tired looking grass and the
hills beyond. Jan bought a flagon of
the local ale and stood at the rear doorway watching the cloud filled skies as
vessels of all kinds were smothered by their silver obstruction. Far above he could just make out the
glimmer of the I.S.D, tiny lights making their way too and from it in a
constant flow of ships. Just one drink, he thought. One
drink and I can forget everything about Hijjin, A-desando, this damn run,
Sasn and my Mom. He
finished the ale and turned to make his way back into the cantina for a final
brew when a towering, cloak wearing man bumped into him and grabbed his
arm. Jan shook free and slipped his
hand down to his blaster, ready for action. “It’s me.” Jan
softened his grip on the blaster, which was already halfway out of the
holster. “Hijjin?
What do you want now?” Hijjin
Lomona pulled the cloak back from his head and motioned outside. “Outside.” Jan
cocked his head and followed his brother away from the noise of the cantina
and into the rear scrub area. No one
noticed their departure. In such
places it paid people not to notice much of anything. Inquisitiveness often equated to knowledge,
and knowledge was dangerous. Better to
be ignorant and alive than smart and dead. “What now Hijj? I’m just finishing off and then heading
back home.” “And where exactly is home these days?” asked Hijjin, hands on hips and a hard stare
boring a hole into his brother. Jan
concealed the laugh that unwelcomingly swelled in his throat and replied. “That’s none of your business. Why, what’s the big deal?” Hijjin
stepped forward and shook the cloak free. “Be honest Jan. We’re not on a Star Destroyer now. This is just you and me, brother to
brother.” He narrowed his eyes. “You’ve got no intention of going back to
A-desando, have you.” Jan
summed up all the things that ran through his mind at that precise moment and
was about to chose one of them when he spoke almost involuntarily. “No.” “After what I told you about our parents,
our family. None of that matters to
you.” He was stating it as facts, not
as questions and Jan saw little point in prolonging the conversation. “No it doesn’t.” He shrugged and let slip a grin. “What can I say Hijj. A-desando is part of my past. I left it behind a long time ago. There’s nothing I can say to you, Mom or
Dad that would change a single thing, so why bother?” Hijjin
moved even closer and Jan found himself tensing for action. His brother was a big man, and if his anger
got the better of him he would be in for a serious tussle. “Why bother? You selfish son-of-a-Krayt. We’re your family!” His hands balled up into fists. “Your flesh and blood. How could you walk away from that?” “I already did. And now I’m gonna walk away from you.” Jan began to turn and walk back to the
cantina. “Goodbye Hijjin.” He
didn’t hear the sound of his brother’s footsteps as he covered the two meters
between them but he felt the thump as Hijjin tackled him to the ground and
swiftly pinned his arms to the floor.
Before he knew it, blows were raining around his ears and he could
feel his head begin to swell. Hijjin
paused and leaned in close to his brother’s face. “I should have done this a long time ago,
you ungrateful bastard.” Jan
took his chance and managed to lift his legs far enough back to hook the
under his brothers arms, slamming him into the floor and rolling away to his
feet. He shook his head as his blurred
vision showed him three versions of Hijjin, all moving in for a second
attack. “Don’t do this Hijj. Just walk away.” Hijjin
snarled at that. “Walking away is something you do Jan, not me.” He steadied himself. “We sort this out tonight.” “What do you mean…” started Jan, but his
words were washed away by the impact of his brother as he once again attacked
him, and soon they were rolling around on the ground slamming punches and
blows into each other. Jan was coming
off the worse, the larger A-desandian having the weight advantage and soon he
could feel his tenuous grip on consciousness begin to slip away. His eyes were swelling up and his arms were
growing weak from the exertion and yet he still found the strength to push
his brother away, watched him stumble back over the material of his cloak and
with a cold thud hit his head on a flat stone that lay among the scrub. Jan swallowed, closing his eyes to regain
his senses and rolled onto his hands and knees. He looked just a few meters away at his
brother’s inert form. “Hijjin?”
He began to crawl towards his brother, wary of a surprise assault. “Hijj, are you okay?” He looked down at his brother; eyes open in
a surprised stare and saw the thick stream of blood as it poured from the
back of his skull. He drew in a
shuddering breath and covered his mouth with his hand as the realisation of
what had just occurred hit him. After
everything he’d been through the last few days, evading capture, then being
boarded, reunited with his brother and now his murder. Brother or not, as Joel St. John or as Jan
Lomona, he had slain an Imperial officer and for that he would certainly be
executed. For it all to end like this… He
checked his brother’s pulse, but it was still and growing cold. Jan’s eyes filled with tears as he sat back
and slumped to the floor, not able to take his eyes off his brothers shocked
stare. The sound of the cantina music
grew louder as his hearing returned, and he felt a chill in the air as the
heavens opened and rain began to lash down, and what had only moments before
been a patch of barren dry scrub began to churn into a mud bath. He watched the blood of his brother wash
away into the ground and closed his eyes. He
knew what he had to do. The
Berone Sunrise wheeled away from
Agubia, angling itself from the lurking Star Destroyer that hovered on the
brim of space. In silence he pulled
back the levers that dropped his freighter into the safety of hyperspace and
once the stars swirled to purple he closed his eyes and leaned back in his
seat. His fingernails still carried
the muddy soil of Agubia where he had hastily buried his brother in the scrub
and he could still smell the coppery tang of his blood. His own face, though patch-worked in bacta
strips, betrayed signs of the fight, his clothes the evidence of
struggle. Ocern had said nothing to
his young companion while they prepared for lift-off but now, swiftly
ensconced into lightspeed he turned to Jan. “What just happened Jan? We should be dead.” Jan
simply stared out of the cockpit window into the depths of hyperspace and
allowed his silence to say the rest. Second Son 1987/1999/2005 story by Mark Newbold Three years before Episode IV – A New Hope Histories - Recorded on 2nd, 5th and
6th November 1987, Second
Son was the first part of the four-part NHP Solo Runs series
depicting Lomonas time on A-desando
before the events of A New Hope. The stories served to illustrate Jan’s
background and history, his family background and his ties with the Setnin
Sector underground.
Originally the reasoning for the brothers arguments was the grave
illness of their mother Sieera but this changed in later stories to her
wanting Jan to return home and to stop shunning the family. With her husband Narn a General in the Imperial
Army and Hijjin a Lieutenant
in the fleet, Jan was a disappointment – but despite their military leanings,
Jan would still not take orders or advice from them. Cast of
Characters Jan
Lomona Captain
Hijjin Lomona Ocern
Gabe Latti
Tellex Aurran Troopie Sasn Lieutenant
Tastor Interrogation
Officer Doksop Portmaster Oldorn
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