An Admirable Effort

2000 short story by Jonathan Hicks

Nine years after Episode IV - A New Hope

He took a deep breath and tried to ignore the cold. It bit at him, clawed at him, tugged at his skin with every gust and threatened to tear it from his bones.

All Goah wore was his usual black attire, his long concealing coat and his partially armoured clothing. His boots, high and buckled on the outside, were covered in mud and grime. Mud from the planets ground, grime from the dust and soot of combat.

He looked over at the Phoenix, lying nose-buried in the soft soil. The rear section was gone, blown away by concentrated fire from the ground defences. He knew it had been a trap. He knew that this planet was still heavily occupied by Imperial forces. When Glann had instructed him to come here he didn’t know the reasoning, wanted to know why his employer had told him to spy on the Imperial movements here.

Employer, he thought, or creator?

As soon as he had dropped out of hyperspace the tractor-mine had latched onto his ship and pulled itself at him, detonating as he tried to twist the ship out of it’s path. The explosion had torn away the engine and he had barely landed it, all the time coming under heavy fire from the planet’s surface.

Landed was a very broad term in this instance. The nose had impacted so hard it had driven it underground, covering the cockpit and half the forward neck of the ship. He had escaped the now useless vessel and scanned the area.

Watching, incredulous and dazed, as dozens of Imperial Stormtroopers emerged from the gloom.

He had been running like a Clann Rat for the past three hours.

   “Commander Holtaa,” the sergeant said, his white Stormtrooper helmet as dirtied as all the others. He looked up at his superior, standing proud in the upper cockpit of the personnel carrier.

   “Ah, sergeant,” Holtaa said, lowering his macrobinoculars. “How goes the hunt?”

   “I just need to make certain it is one man we’re hunting, sir. I’ve just lost another twelve men.”

   “What about the Storm Commandos?”

   “They died in the first hour, sir.”

Holtaa shook his head and looked down at the deckplates.

   “This is taking too much time. Bring up the repulsortanks and saturate the zone he was last spotted in.”

    “Yes, sir. Permission to take another detachment, sir.”

    “Granted.”

The officer nodded and turned to the carrier parked next to Holtaa’s, motioning for the Stormtroopers packed into the back to follow him.

There was a small cough from behind Holtaa. He turned to regard his lieutenant. “What is it, Jiko?”

   “Sir,” the officer began, looking sheepish as he spoke. “One man, sir. That last squad brings the total dead to...”

   “I’m well aware of the death toll, lieutenant.”

   “Why is he so important?”

Holtaa scanned the horizon one last time and then turned back to his subordinate.

   “I have direct orders from the commanding officer in the Amagad System to kill Goah Galletti at all costs. This man could threaten a delicate negotiation in that system. I take my superiors orders seriously, lieutenant.”

   “But that's twenty dead, now, sir...”

   “And if it takes another twenty, I’ll take him down.”

Goah shifted from behind the rock and looked back down into the valley. The Stormtroopers were fanning out, blasting shrubs, grenading rocks, taking no chances. They had originally hunted him carefully. It appeared they had done away with subtlety and had decided to totally annihilate the area.

They knew he was coming. Waited for him. Laid the tractor-mine. Made sure there were ground troops ready for mobilisation if he managed to land the vessel. A big trap.

Glann must have known. He wanted him dead. And he had used the Empire, or what was left of it in this sector now that the New Republic was gaining power.

Goah shook his head. This wasn’t looking promising.

He moved out, keeping low and letting the ground-hugging fog cover his movement.

There was a voice to his left and he spun. The words were unintelligible but he knew they were a friend’s words. Pistols appeared in both hands and he targeted...

...nothing.

   “Hey, Goah!”

Goah Galletti looked up from his console, the shout drifting from his left. He tapped the enable key and sent the transmission to his broker on Cerodine. Business, business. That was all his life centred about these days.

The small alien, furred and strangely coloured in a spectrum of oscillating colours, approached him. Goah smiled.

   “Derro,” he said, holding out his hand palm-up.

The alien curled his long fingers through Goah’s and gave his wrist a little twist in the greeting of his species. Just behind the alien was a Wookie, the tall hairy form shambling along on like a muscle-bound rug.

   “What brings you to Coruscant?”

Derro shrugged.

   “I heard you were on the surface. Thought I’d look you up and see if there’s any new business you can throw my way.”

The public transmitter Goah was using was idling, waiting for further instructions, so Goah pressed the negative panel and the system shut down. He stepped away from the communicator and started walking to the air-taxi ranks. Derro followed two steps to Goah’s one.

   “There’s a lot of money coming out of the P’ro Dynasty at the moment,” Goah said. “Trading halted yesterday seven over twelve, so I’d grab a bit of that action if I were you whilst the new Senate finds it’s feet.”

   “P’ro?” Derro screwed his mouth up in disbelief. “They’ve got nothing left since the war.”

Goah smiled.

   “I’ve got two words for you, Derro, my old chum. Tibanna gas.”

   “ElcoV?”

   “ElcoV.”

   “Goah, why didn’t you take that offer I made you? Come and work for me, we’ll be rolling in credits in a standard year.”

With a huge sigh Goah looked out over the Coruscant landscape, the entire surface covered in one vast city. Buildings sprouted as high as the clouds and the marvellous constructs glittered like jewels in the twilight. Lines upon lines of ships and vehicles spread out over the sky like swarms of orderly insects, the air filled with the whoosh and roar of their passing.

He looked over his shoulder, suddenly feeling nervous, as if someone was following. Derro noticed his glance and followed it with his own eyes. Seeing nothing, he turned back to Goah.

   “Well?”

   “Derro, you know and I know that you’d take off with seventy-five percent within six months,” Goah said, suddenly nervous and angry at the same time. As fast as the feelings came they dissipated and Goah was left staring into his friend’s startled face.

    “Well, thanks a lot, friend,” Derro said with a touch of venom in his voice. “If I’d known you believed the reports then I would never have bothered talking to you...” He made to walk away.

   “Derro, wait,” Goah called, knowing that the alien would be placated quite easily by his apologies. “I’m sorry. I’m not sleeping well. How about something to eat, yeah? I’m buying. The Gorema Plaza? Come on, they cater for Wookie's, too.” He felt an ache in his right shoulder and started to rub it.

The huge Wookie honked and woofed his eager agreement. Derro smirked.

   “Yeah, okay. I’ll score the air taxi. Are you okay?” He had noticed Goah’s vigorous shoulder rubbing.

   “Yeah, I think so. Think I just pulled a muscle.”

Goah rolled with the Blaster impact, his right shoulder smouldering as the bolt had nearly removed his arm.

The repulsorcraft had come over the horizon with such speed Goah had hardly any time to hide. The rear mounted anti-personnel Blaster had fired twice, once into the air to alert other forces to Goah’s position and then again to try to neutralise the threat.

Goah came out of the roll and kept going, running hard for the rocks ahead. The Blaster fired as he primed one of the small explosives in the launcher under the barrel of his pistol, the shot screaming over him as he launched himself into the air and over the rocks.

As he jumped he twisted himself around, facing back towards the speeder. With a quick jerk of the trigger he loosed the projectile, disappearing behind the rocks as the mini-missile sped towards its target. As he landed hard, the missile connected with the Blaster on the vehicle and turned it to wreckage, flinging the gunner and the speeder’s pilot onto the earth.

The ground was soft where Goah landed and he failed to roll properly, landing instead on his back in the sticky mud. He struggled to get back onto his feet as the pain in his shoulder threatened to slow him down, but he simply shut of the pain and groped for another missile to reload his launcher with.

The pouch he kept his explosives in was empty. He cursed realising he only had four of the missiles and had already used them all, two just to wipe out the force of Storm Commandos. He checked the charge on both his Blasters, holstered one, then climbed to his feet. He still had the three thermal detonators and the small hoard of grenades he had stolen from the bodies of the dead.

Stormtroopers were swarming in the direction of the explosion, doubled now as the engine bay gave out and the rest of the vehicle erupted. Goah shook his head.

Why, Glann?

He smiled cruelly, thinking about what he would do to all the Imperials on the planet and then to Glann when he got back to Amagad. He twisted and started jumping down the rocks into the crevasse he had come upon. His coat billowed out behind him like wings, fluttering as he jumped six, eight meters at a time.

The first Stormtrooper appeared at the crevasse’s edge and saw the descending figure. He immediately started firing. His fellows joined him, saturating the area with fire.

The first sign of heavy bombardment was when the side of the crevasse was obliterated by a small point of white light. The parabolic weapons Holtaa had in reserve had been given precise co-ordinates and had started their blanket of ordnance. Goah kept on leaping, knowing that climbing back up would mean certain death and carrying on would possibly yield some cover.

Whole boulders were destroyed as the light continued falling, the explosion causing more and more rockslides on the sharply angled sides of the crevasse. Goah now found himself dodging rocks as they tumbled down the side of the wound in the planet’s skin.

At first he had thought the darkness below was just the fading light and that the bottom of the crevasse would appear shortly, but when he leaped off a rock as it exploded and looked down to see where he could plant his feet he saw there was no such place. The bottom of the crevasse was, in fact, an abyss.

He flailed in panic, grabbing an outcrop of sharp rock and latching onto it with both hands. He swung himself around and hugged the rock to him, fiercely clinging. Explosions rocked the land around him and he stared with fear and anger down into the apparently bottomless abyss.

Goah leaned over the side of the air taxi and balked. The drop to the surface of Coruscant had never seemed so far. Here he was two kilometres in the air, a lot lower than he was accustomed to, and he was feeling this kind of anxiety! He breathed hard and sat back in his padded seat.

Derro noticed his pale complexion and sweating brow.

   “What’s wrong, Goah?” He noticed how Goah’s hands were so tightly gripped to the armrests the covering was about to tear.

   “Not well,” Goah answered, staring up into the reddening Coruscant sky.

   “Do you want to skip the Plaza?” Derro asked, slightly concerned but more than a little irritated. Was this how Goah changed his mind about picking up the bill for dinner?

   “No, no, I’ll be okay.”

   “Is it the height? Shall we go down?”

Goah looked at Derro and glared sudden anger in his eyes.

   “What, you think I’m scared?” he snapped.

The Wookie growled softly under his breath, the crimson pelt rustling with tensed muscles. Derro shook his head.

   “No, pal, it’s just that you look a little tense, that’s all. Look, here’s the Plaza. Come on, it looks as though you need a drink or two. I know you’re a hard working trader, but every now and then you’ve got to park the ship and relax a little...”

   “My ship’s wrecked,” Goah said suddenly as he climbed from the air taxi and onto the shining marble-like floor of the Gorema Plaza. Derro looked at him in shock.

   “You’ve wrecked the Crusader?” he asked, his face wrinkled with so many frowns it made him look twenty years older.

Goah thought about what he had just said and remembered that he had berthed his ship on an upper landing hover-station not two hours previously. He entered the throng of beings in the Plaza and shook his head.

   “I mean... she needs a little attention, that’s all.”

The crowds on the Plaza were so thick that the three beings had to push their way through. The restaurant Goah was aiming for was on the other side of the main concourse and they were hard pressed to get past the crowds that threatened to sweep them away.

Goah suddenly felt closed in, trapped, suffocated, crushed by the swarms of beings that surrounded him. He looked around wildly for the nearest escape, the closest avenue of freedom. He grabbed beings and heaved them out of the way so that he could get out, rid himself of this intense feeling of claustrophobia.

There were shouts of alarm and cries of dismay but he had little time to heed them. He heard a faint voice, Derro’s, but he ignored him. He had to escape! With a final push he forced his way between two Duros and his hand reached out to the cool fresh air of freedom.

Pistol in hand, Goah pushed his way out from the soil that covered him. The Stormtrooper who had come to investigate the shifting rubble on this part of the side of the crevasse had no time for surprise as the back of his helmet exploded.

The last barrage had caused a large landslide, not large rocks but dirt and small stones, enough to bury Goah totally as he tried to clamber his way back up the side and away from the abyss. He had been trapped, the last few seconds as he tried to burrow his way out were moments of uncharacteristic terror as he started to realise that he may suffocate under here. As he had burst from the slide, hand first, his first sight had been the emotionless visor of a Stormtrooper. Instinctively he had pulled the trigger and removed the threat.

The shot had alerted others. Goah had no time to try and get his bearings. He set off along the crevasse's slope, running as best he could as the Stormtroopers fired again, the bright beams of their Blasters illuminating the darkening sky and turning all around him to molten rock or soot. Showers of sparks and flames leapt around him but he kept going, out of range of the firing enemy.

Ever since Hoth, he thought. Ever since Hoth I’ve had my doubts about who I was. Since I saw him. The other me. The real me. I’m a clone. I’m a thing.

Since Hoth, since he had seen the man who claimed to be the real Goah and who had accused him of being a creation, he had delved into his past. From what he had learned he hadn’t always been a killer. He had been a gentle man, once. Married. In love.

More delving and he had uncovered Glann’s love for genetic manipulation. More digging and he found out about his sudden change of personality.

A week previously he had asked Glann outright where do I come from? Glann had been a little shocked, maybe even scared, by the sudden question. Suddenly he had given Goah jobs outside the Setnin Sector, as if he was trying to keep the assassin as far away from him as possible.

Is he afraid of me? Is he afraid of what I’m capable of if I turn against him? Is this why he sent me here?

To die?

He ran for what seemed an age before changing tactics.

His pistol was gripped tightly in his hand as he changed course and headed up the slope.

Stormtroopers appeared at the top, weapons pointing his way. He knew he couldn’t go back down to the beckoning abyss. He knew he couldn’t go back along the slope to the approaching troopers.

He drew his other pistol and ran up the slope, firing wildly at the Stormtroopers who were trying to stop the shadow that came screaming at them The scream was deep and resonant, but somewhere at the back of that scream were words, unintelligible words.

Each pistol fired in turn as Goah ran up the slope, leaping with impossible strength from rock to rock, diving under shots, jumping over bolts. Each of his shots either destroyed rock or armour, the bodies of the troopers tumbling towards him or falling back out of sight. He found himself vaulting over the white-armoured bodies of the fallen as they cascaded into the crevasse, an avalanche of encased flesh.

Goah was shocked when he took a hit in the lower abdomen, just as he reached the top. He doubled over in pain, the blast causing a sudden cessation in movement and flinging him to the floor. In anger he looked up, saw the only trooper left in the detachment he had assaulted and started firing.

He wasn’t sure how many shots he put into the Stormtrooper but he emptied his Blaster pack. The figure jerked and flew backwards, and Goah stood slowly, still firing until the last few shots were nothing but weak blasts of residual energy. He continued to pull the trigger even as the pistol bleeped for attention.

The hit had sliced across his lower belly and into his hip. He grimaced at the wound, the smell of burnt flesh, and tried to reach into his inner pocket for fresh cartridge but found none. He was on his last pistol and power pack, with no more than fifty shots. He looked up as another troop shuttle roared overhead, his eyes narrowed into a hate-filled stare.

With a roar of frustration he heard more troopers approaching and he flung his empty pistol at the forms appearing from the smoky gloom.

Derro leaned forward, grabbing Goah’s wrist as his friend suddenly gripped his stomach and grimaced.

   “What, the egg's too spicy?”

   “I don’t think they agree with me,” Goah said as he gently rubbed his abdomen. He frowned in confusion. If the eggs were a little too spicy for him, why did his hip ache so much?

   “You put a little too much tomga sauce on them, I noticed. Humans don’t react well to that. Besides, the way you kept on stabbing the sauce sacks I’m surprised there’s anything left to chew.” Derro spooned a large helping of the eggs he had ordered, smeared liberally with tomga sauce, into his mouth and smiled as he chewed.

Goah looked up at Derro, his eyes narrowed in a stare that made the alien almost choke. They seemed to burn into his own eyes. The Wookie, unaware of the altercation, tore another chunk from the platter of meat he had ordered and closed his eyes in contentment as he bit into it.

It took a few seconds for Goah to calm his nerves, to let the anger go. Where was it coming from, all this tenseness, this strange feeling of conflict?

Maybe Derro was right. Maybe he had been working too hard.

   “Look, Derro, I’m sorry, I’m really tired.”

   “I’ll get the bill...”

   “No, no, here, take this cred chip, it’s good for the meal and a tip. I’m going to go back to my ship, get some sleep. I’ll talk to you tomorrow about that P’ro deal. Yeah?” He stood and laid a small square chip on the table, his hoverchair sliding backwards as he stood.

Derro looked at his friend, sincere concern on his face.

   “No problem. I’m on my office comm so call me after midday. Okay?”

Goah turned sharply as he wanted to leave quickly, straight into a droid waiter with a large tray of cooked lizards that seemed to stare blankly at nothing. The lizards were steaming and small roots of some kind dangled from the edge of the tray. The Wookie looked on expectantly.

But Goah was startled. So shocked he cried out and batted the tray from the droids hands, sending the dish over the next table and covering the Gran diners. He felt an urge to reach reached for his Blaster and his hand slapped into his hip where the gun should have been but he couldn’t find it.

Then he noticed how everyone stared at him, as if they had suddenly become aware of his presence in the restaurant.

Goah crawled over the hill, sure he had lost his pursuers.

The creature that he came face to face with as he crested the top was as shocked as he was, rearing as it did on its four hind legs and bleating in panic. All Goah could see was the rows of teeth it had as it snapped in self-defence, rearing backwards.

He cried out, pushing the creature back and jamming his foot on its neck, firing several shots into its head and body. Too late he realised what he had done and looked back, seeing the troopers heading his way.

He was on a single mound and all around him Stormtroopers approached.

Surrounded.

Surrounded.

Goah looked wildly about as figures closed in, watched as they surrounded him. He didn’t know where he was, who he was, what was happening. The figures appeared concerned, but they were all faceless figures coming at him, hands outstretched. The small one he had dined with approached, hand out.

He yowled and batted the hand away. With a heave he flung himself at the figures around him, arms batting and legs flailing.

The Stormtroopers died as they came on. Goah clenched his fist and a blade snapped out of his prosthetic arm, drove it with all his force into the helmet...

...and the waiter tumbled backwards, blood streaming from his nose. Goah cocked his fist back for another punch but he felt something behind him...

...so he whirled and planted his foot into the Stormtroopers breastplate...

 ...which caused the Wookie to double over, surprised at the strike. He backpeddled with more shock than pain...

 ...and tumbled down the side of the hill, knocking down several of his comrades. Another Blaster shot slammed into Goah’s back...

...the force of the blow from the Wookie pushed him forward into a table...

...and they both fell to the ground, Goah punching so hard the blade snapped off in the trooper’s throat...

...and more hands grabbed him, people were screaming, the head waiter shouting...

...for his troopers to just kill him and be done with. More blasts. Shots hit him in the chest, the arm, the legs, he fell...

...his limbs useless as beings were pinning him to the floor...

...crying out for his brothers, his friends, for anyone, anything to help him...

...the tears streaming, the cries so desperate some beings backed away from the emotion of the moment, an officer of the constabulary levelling his stun pistol and firing again...

...and the final blast to the small of his back put him down. Goah fell face down to the dirt, multiple wounds smouldering and sizzling like cooked meat. The dead lay all around him, the other Stormtroopers approaching him warily.

An officer approached, his uniform clean and perfect as he had sat out this last conflict. He approached Goah and looked down at the still form. He gave the body a gentle kick and waited for a response.

There was a giggle.

   “What’s he laughing at?” Derro asked, turning his stunned friend over.

The officer knelt down and turned the body over slightly and looked at the smiling visage of the quarry he had spent the last few hours hunting like an animal.

He was laughing. It was a laugh of a strange quality, as if this man had never had anything to laugh about before and the sensation was strange to him.

Goah laughed as blood poured from his mouth, his body shot so many times his clothes were nearly all burnt away. He laughed as the officer heaved him over.

Laughed at the officer’s shocked expression. Laughed as the officer and the troopers saw the bag of grenades on his belt, the two thermal detonators in his hands.

   “Why don’t you join me?” Goah laughed as they tried to scramble away.

The explosion tore away the top of the hill, as if a dormant volcano had decided, at that very moment, to awaken.

   “Losses?” Holtaa asked.

   “One hundred and twenty three,” the lieutenant replied. “Was it worth it for one man?”

   Holtaa sighed.

   “I hope so.”

Goah sipped the water from the glass pressed into his hand. He looked up at the concerned faces around him, avoided the looks of the few he had assaulted.

Derro patted him on the shoulder.

   “That’s what I call an allergic reaction,” he said. “Have you never had those eggs before?”

Goah shook his head but said nothing.

   “Well, the manager is making a bill, and I can see a couple of compensation suits heading your way.”

   “I can afford it.”

The constable stepped forward and handed Goah a small infochip containing a fine. “Don’t leave planet for at least three days and make sure that’s paid by tomorrow, okay?” he said sternly.

Goah shook his head and started to walk from the restaurant. He ignored the beings around him who moved out of his path.

The cool Coruscant air washed over him and he felt all the aches and pains he had experienced over the last few hours seep away. He strangely felt invigorated, as if a huge weight had been lifted from his shoulders.

   “How do you feel, Goah?” Derro asked.

Goah looked out over the city and realised at that moment how beautiful the planet was.

   “Complete,” he said. “I feel like a whole man again.”

An Admirable Effort

2000 short story by Jonathan Hicks

Nine years after Episode IV - A New Hope

Histories - The final story to feature the cloned Goah Galletti and the precursor to the real Goah's return to the Setnin Sector after the fall of Glann Cipple.

Cast of Characters

Clone Goah Galletti

Real Goah Galletti

Commander Holtaa

Derro

Jiko