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Chancai
Whispers 2001
short story by Mark Newbold Eight years after Episode IV – A New Hope Chancai,
Level Eight, Chancai Hardball Stadium “How come things
like this don’t happen to the unpopular guys?” drawled Jan Lomona
through split lips as another blow crashed into his face. The Barabel pulled back his swollen fist
and shook it, the crack on Lomonas jaw hurting him almost as much as it did
the dazed A-desandian. Jan slumped in
his bonds, the tight cargo strapping cutting into his circulation and turning
his extremities a dangerous shade of red.
The Barabel wound up for another punch, but before he could administer
it the soft touch of a female hand on his shoulder stopped him “No Plinth, I
think Captain Lomona has taken enough of a beating for one day.” She moved from behind the Barabel and stood
before Jan as he painfully lifted his head to see where the sweet voice was
coming from. “Haetzi? Wha’…what the hell is this?” He struggled in his bindings but to little avail.
“Hey, now this ain’t about our little dinner date is it, ‘cause if it
is, I was gonna call you know.”
He raised his eyebrows in an ironic fashion. “’Course, I’ve been a bit busy lately…” Haetzi folded her arms across her chest and cocked her
head in a sweet approximation of someone who believed what she was hearing. “Now Jan, why
would I let that upset me? We had a
wonderful evening, and you were everything I was told you would be.” Huh? Where’d she
hear about that, the Chancai Express?
I’m gonna have words with that cub reporter… “So what’s with
the cargo strapping and the Barabel?
What we had was fun, but bondage and threesomes are usually a joint
decision.” Haetzi leaned in towards Jan, so close he could smell her
subtle perfume and see the glint of silver flecked through her platinum
eyes. Now I remember why I risked
my neck spending the night with her. “I agree, but
don’t you think it’s time for a little honesty yourself?” She stepped back. “Come on, you don’t really expect me to
believe that I became your latest conquest just to satisfy your
libido?” She spun on her heel, arms
wide, the massive Chancai Hardball Stadium echoing to her laughter. “I’m Haetzi Pocock for gods
sake! Jomobol Pocock’s niece.
You must have had an ulterior motive for seducing me.” Me seduce you? You
were on me like a Mynock on a power generator! “Haetzi, what
can I say. It was lonely on Corvela,
the job was finished and we were both kind of…there.” He lifted his head again and drew a deep
breath. “But there was no other
reason.” He smiled his warmest, most
genuine smile. “Honest.” The Barabel slammed another blow into Jan’s stomach
before Haetzi even had the chance to order it. Jan spat blood and gasped for breath. She slinked towards him and grabbed a handful
of hair, yanking his head upwards. His
vision blurred, she looked even more like an angel than she did on
Corvela. Remind me again, who’s the
liar here? “Plinth is
taking you to the Red Star Hotel on Level Seven. You’ll spend the night there resting, and
by the morning I want to know who you were working for and what you were
doing. And if I don’t hear answers
that satisfy me,” She nodded to Plinth who yanked the heavy pole that Jan was
tied to out of the ground the lifted it over his shoulder, with Jan still
tied painfully to it. “Then you’ll be
taking a one-way trip down the main access shaft. From Level Twenty-seven.” Jan Lomona grimaced as he was carried away, too weak to
struggle against his bindings and too dazed to think of a plan. How come things like this don’t happen to the unpopular
guys? Chancai,
Level Seven, Red Star Hotel, Reception “Was that Jan
Lomona?” Bozz Yoon asked himself as he
caught a glimpse of a huge, black-skinned Barabel carry a slumped figure
through the side entrance of the Red Star Hotel and into the cargo lift that
led to the upper rooms. He skirted
from around the side of his desk, clicking his long tongue and strode to the
lift, but by the time he’d turned the corner the lift was shut and
ascending. He paused and scratched his
head with his clawed hand. It couldn’t
have been Jan. He’s supposed to be on
Wennicas, sorting out some business with Predd Jason. At least, that’s what Grin said. He slowly returned to his desk, but the
nagging itch of doubt refused to settle.
He flicked a switch on his console. “Tighten up the
security. We may have a situation
here.” Chancai,
Level Seven, Red Star Hotel, Fourth Floor “You want to get
this pole off me now? It’s not like
I’m gonna dance for you.” Jan raised his eyebrows at the Barabel as he continued to
bounce up and down on the soft bed that Plinth had tossed him onto. As he came to rest the Barabel whipped out
a pair of bolt cutters and removed the cargo strapping from Jans sore wrists. “Thanks. Plinth, isn’t it?” The Barabel turned its back and busied himself with
something in the corner of the small room.
Jan shrugged his shoulders and continued to rub at the redness on his
wrists. He checked through the
window. Down on Level Seven, natural
light was an alien concept, especially here in the centre of the Trade
Centre. Jan was treated to a view of
an Assallam Assemblies Stock Light rising past the window towards the freedom
of space. Lucky frecker, thought
Lomona. I need a plan, and quick. “So, you gonna
talk my ears off all night or what?”
Jan asked the Barabel’s broad back, which
refused to acknowledge his existence.
“I mean, you’ve taken the strapping off, so what now? Arm wrestling
competition? Game of Sabacc,
tri-point – “ “You talk a lot,
don’t you.” Stated Plinth in a manner that indicated that he would dearly
like the room to not be echoing with the voice of Jan Lomona. Jan smiled. “Got to do something with my time.” He sat straight on the bed and planted his
hands on his knees. “So come on
Plinth. What does Pocock really
want?” The Barabel turned and fixed Jan with a hard glare. “That’s Miss
Pocock to you, and don’t forget it.” Lomona shook his head and frowned. “Not her,
Jomobol. That girl’s got the style but
she ain’t got the guile.” Jan fixed
the Barabel with a meaningful stare of his own. “What’s the real deal here?” Plinth softened his angry glare and turned to face Jan
head on. Lomona remained impassive,
not allowing himself to be intimidated by the shorter but much heavier-built
alien. “I was told that
you were good at deception.” He sat
next to Jan. “But not quite so
good.” Jan remained impassive, so
Plinth continued. “On Corvela, when
you and Miss Pocock managed to slip past me and hire the speeder to go into
town.” Jan nodded in remembrance. “Yeah, that was
a tough move to make. For a big guy you’ve sure got attention for small
details. So?” “We had word
that you were on planet, finishing a deal that Cipple had started. He sent you to complete it. Something big.” “You might say
that. It’s a wrap now, but yeah, it
was a good deal.” Plinth paused. “You’re known
for wrapping deals alone. Without the need for back-up.” Jan smiled and rocked on the bed. The reputation precedes me again. “That’s
right. Kept me in
credits for a few years now.” Plinth squinted as he scrutinised Lomona. “So why was
Carlonian Feese there?” Jan rolled his eyes and closed them, rubbing his face in
a weary motion. Feese. Bane of my life. Well, one of them. “That is a whole
other story pal.” Said
Lomona in a fashion that indicated that he had no intention of divulging it. Plinth raised Lomona’s custom heavy blaster and pointed
it at Jan’s head. “You’ve got
plenty of time to tell it.” Chancai,
Level Seven, Red Star Hotel, Reception “Miss Pocock, as
always it’s a pleasure to accommodate you.”
Bozz Yoon smiled his reptilian smile and handed the access key to
Haetzi, who accepted it with a thin smile. “Thank you
Bozz. The pleasure is all mine.” She spun on
her heel and walked to the turbo lift that would take her to the fourth floor
of this levels Red Star Hotel, one of a number on Chancai. Bozz watched her leave and thoughtfully
played with his tie. What’s the
niece of one of the sectors most powerful ganglords doing in this hotel? Level Seven isn’t the height of opulence,
and she’s a rich bitch with a taste for the finer things in life. He acknowledged two grimy-looking
operators as they approached the desk and smiled as they realised who was
serving them. Something doesn’t add
up. “Can I help you gentlebeings?” “Twin room, fourth floor.”
The first man looked around the reception with a swift glance. “And keep it quiet. We’re…” He paused as he eyed his colleague. “…Keeping our heads
down.” Bozz smiled and nodded as he handed them the check-in
documents. “Sir, discretion
is my middle name.” Corvela,
Kentz City, one month previously Jan Lomona stirred in his sleep as Carlonian Feese peered
into the window, sixteen floors above the harsh streets of Kentz City on the
mountainous world of Corvela. There
was no love lost between Feese and Lomona, but despite Feese’s
professional respect for Lomona he despised being sent out to this world on
the edge of the Soluman Delta Gulf. And for what? To tail Lomona as he completed a deal that was already complete,
or to keep him out of Cipples admittedly thinning hair? The Mon Calamarian wasn’t sure, but
whichever it was he was in no mood to…what was it Tarr Ranth always said? Oh yes, baby sit. Carlonian Feese was nobody’s baby sitter. Feese looked below at the deluge of speeders that swept
through the narrow streets and checked his footing. Inside he could see Lomona turn and open
his eyes. The soundproofed glazing
kept all sounds within, but Feese was sure that Lomona was talking to
someone. Probably another one-night
stand, snarled Feese to himself. For a
man who professed to be in love with Frans Latka, Lomona was certainly free
with his affections. And as Feese saw
it, those affections were regularly directed towards other women. Feese gripped the edge of the wall and peered closer,
hugging the wall as a security speeder swept by, flashlights spraying over
the upper reaches of the Red Star Hotel.
He narrowed his eyes as his expectations were confirmed – a woman, and
a young one at that. No more than her
early twenties, and lithe. For a human. Feese
held little interest in women of any species, even his own, but he had
learned to spot a beautiful woman.
Like the ability to fast draw, or knife throw, or fight hand-to-hand
he had learned that beauty could be a deadly weapon. And it was Lomona’s apparent inability to
say no to a pretty face that had made him a security risk. Feese thought so, as did Glann Cipples
security chief Melm. Only Cipples
faith in the A-desandian had kept him in his position as his number one
smuggler. Had Feese had his way he’d
have been worm food years ago. The woman moved towards the bed and handed Lomona a
glass, easing herself onto the edge of the bed and leaning in towards
him. Feese frowned and then opened his
eyes wide with surprise. It couldn’t
possibly be her. Even Lomona wasn’t
that stupid. He wouldn’t cross Cipple,
after all the years of loyalty. “What am I
saying?” Asked Feese of himself. “Of course
he would.” Steadying himself, he gripped the barrel of his rifle and
swung it towards the window, hitting it in the precise place that would crack
it enough to force entry. It was
something he had done a hundred times, and his experience served him
well. The glass split apart neatly and
Carlonian Feese entered the room, weapon at the ready. Lomona rolled across the bed, reaching for
his blaster but made little progress as the huge figure of Plinth the Barabel
came crashing into the room, a look of furious anger etched into his
features. Feese
looked at Plinth, Plinth at his employer Haetzi Pocock, Haetzi at Jan with a
look of shock and annoyance on her face and Jan at Feese. Jan broke the silence. “My sixth sense
is telling me this isn’t a social call.” Chancai,
Level Seven, Red Star Hotel, Fourth Floor “You in?” “All set. So, what’s the play?” The first man checked his watch and scratched his
forehead. “Get in there
and find out what the hell Lomona is playing at. I mean, where the hell was he
earlier?” He frowned and checked his
blaster. “The boss’ll
be angry if we don’t go back with some kind of explanation.” The second man raised his eyebrows in agreement. “Yeah, and you
know how he gets when he’s angry.” The first rubbed his shoulder, the flaky itch of synth-flesh peeling away from the laser-whip wound he’d
received as punishment for his last failed mission. “I know exactly
how he gets.” He rubbed the plasti-blast between his fingers. “Let’s get to work.” Chancai,
Level Seven, Red Star Hotel, Fourth Floor “So that’s what
happened. Like I told you before you
kidnapped me, it’s not my fault.” Plinth shook his head, and for a brief second Lomona
actually thought that he believed him.
But, like politics, a second could be a long time and Plinth narrowed
his eyes and shot Lomona a venomous glare. “You expect me
to believe that? Being so tall must
have starved your brain of oxygen.” Jan blew out an annoyed breath and shook his head. “Look, contrary
to whatever spiel Feese has spun, he was there because Glann wanted him out
of the way. I don’t know why he sent
him to follow me. As far as I know
he’s never tailed me before, but he did and that’s that.” Jan stood to his feet, Plinth following a
second later. Lomona stood in front of
the wall and turned to lean against it.
He could feel vibrations, as if something was tapping away at the
other side, and sensing danger he stepped across the room swiftly… Just as the wall exploded. “Whathehell!!” Yelled Plinth as plaster and fittings
sprayed around the apartment. Jan
frowned as two men entered the room, blasters at the ready and serious
expressions across their faces. Jan
paused and cocked his head. “Well come in
why don’t you.” “Save it Lomona. You’re coming with us.” “No he’s
not.” The four turned at the sound of a soft but firm female
voice. Haetzi Pocock. Jan grinned and shook his head
incredulously. “Baby, if you’re
trying to make a point then it’s made.” “Well let me
make my point.” The five turned to see Bozz Yoon standing in the doorway,
four security men flanking him, weapons at the ready. Jan rubbed his temples. “Okay, now I’m
confused. What the hell is
going on here?” The two new entrants to the room, via the wall, raised
their blasters towards Lomona. “You’re coming
with us. You know how the boss hates
liars and cheats.” Jan turned to face them. “Listen guys, I
don’t even know who you are. What boss?” “Don’t play dumb
with us Lomona.” “I can think of
better games to play than this, believe me.”
He looked at Haetzi. “You
mind explaining?” “I thought the
torture and the kidnapping made my stance crystal clear. I want to know why you…seduced me on
Corvela, and what you were trying to find out.” Jan swallowed. “I seduced
you because you were there. Why have
you got such a hard time believing that?
You’re a beautiful woman, I was a lonely if over-stimulated guy, there was a free room at the hotel…” He trailed off. “Have I got to paint you a picture?” Bozz Yoon stepped into the room and nodded towards the
two gunmen who still waited in the cracked, ragged hole that was previously a
wall. “So, you two.
What’s your story?” “We work for – “ began the first, but a nudge to the ribs from the second
man silenced him. “Forget
it.” He motioned towards Jan. “If he doesn’t remember then he doesn’t
deserve to know.” He paused. “But know this. The boss won’t be pleased, and when he
catches up with you, you’ll wish you’d not crossed him.” “Who?”
Growled Jan in exasperation, but the two men were already stepping
back into their room. Two of Yoon’s
security guards made to follow, but Bozz stopped them as the men stepped onto
the window ledge and silently leapt off, free-falling from the seventh level
into hard, painful deaths. They all
stood in silence for a moment, taking in what had just happened. Haetzi and Plinth moved to take her
belongings, and as she passed Jan he gently took her arm. “Honestly
Haetzi. It was just one night. Nothing more, nothing
less.” “I bet you say
that to all the girls.” She snarled as
she wrenched herself free and strode out of the room, the Barabel Plinth in
tow. Jan turned to his friend Bozz
Yoon and grinned. “I do,
actually.” Chancai
Whispers 2001
short story by Mark Newbold Eight years after Episode IV – A New Hope Histories – Jan Lomona,
philandering again and getting both himself and his colleagues into
trouble. This Mark Newbold
story shows Jans infidelity getting him into trouble, and impacting on others
who work alongside him, like Carlonian Feese. Also, the story introduces Haetzi Pocock,
niece of Jomobol and a player many years later during the New Underworld Age. Cast of Characters Jan Lomona Haetzi Pocock Plinth Bozz Yoon Carlonian Feese |