|
The
Chance of Promotion 2000 short story by Jonathan Hicks Five years before Episode IV – A New Hope Sand
drifted around Suselow’s feet as the speeder
floated past, sunlight reflecting into her eyes off the two ‘droids sat
precariously on the back of it. She smiled knowingly as Imperial
Stormtroopers waved them to a stop, and she slipped into a side alley as a
huge pack animal was led past her and she used the size of the beast to move
out of sight of the cowled figure that had been following her since she had
left the cantina. She
quick-stepped down the alley, all the while watching over her shoulder,
keeping an eye out for her tail. As she turned the next corner, she spared a
glance back and saw the pursuer looking around for her hopelessly, his left
claw always tucked into the back of his cloak as if ready with a weapon,
which Suselow was sure he was. She
pulled her own blaster from its holster as she saw the graffiti on the wall
next to her - Statoone territory. These furred yet reptilian scavenger beasts
had proclaimed this block of sand-coloured buildings as their own, trading
with outsiders and dealing savagely with anyone who trespassed. Suselow
rubbed the crusting sand from her eyes and her short dark hair and advanced. The
alleyway she was in was wide and filled with refuse, the stench almost
unbearable. She walked slowly, scanning every doorway and window, balcony and
walkover. It seemed quiet, except for the sounds of the bustling street and
the calls and cackles of creatures she didn’t know the name of. When
things seemed clear, from pursuers, scrutinizers or otherwise, she holstered
the pistol and took the small silver whistle from her pocket. She blew into
it, unable to hear the sound but knowing it would attract the attention of
the Statoone. Attract
them it did. Almost immediately doors and windows were flung open, and the
short beings from the worlds of the red sun descended on her. She stood her
ground as she was surrounded by blasters and force weapons. “Where did you geet
thaat?” said the stockiest of the Statoone. His
fluorescent tattoos seemed to swirl with a life of their own, even in the
shade that was still brightly lit by Nogard’s sun. “One of your kind
gave it to me. She said that if I called you with this I wouldn’t be dismembered
on sight.” Suselow shifted slightly to recompose her stance, ready for
combat. She was already worried by the increase of Imperial activity on
Nogard and didn’t want any unwanted attention from Stormtroopers if she was
forced to fire her weapon. “Shee waas wise
to waarn you oof uus,” said stocky, “wee doo not
tolerate outsideers.” “I know. Look, I’ve already lost two tails
this morning and I would like to get this over and done with. Whatever it is
you have for me to get back to Dressel on Cawbate has attracted a lot of
competition, some of which I’ve seen operate before.” Stocky
nodded, and motioned to a dark-furred being next to her. Dark fur swung up a
ladder and into an upper window. “Wee doo not
know whaat this is. Since it came intoo our possession wee haave loost maany oof
our number. It appears thaat many wish too own it.” Dark
fur returned quickly, and began to pass a black unmarked box to Suselow. His
chest exploded at the same time. Smoke and the smell of burning wood filled
her nostrils as the body of the unfortunate Statoone flew forward. Suselow’s eyes shot upward as she caught the tumbling box
and she saw the cowled figure that had been trailing her, with several
others, on the opposite roof. A smoking weapon of some sort was in his left
claw. Suselow didn’t recognise the weapon, hadn’t even heard it discharge.
She took a step back towards the shadows. “Don’t bother, Suselow,” the figure said,
a sharp-toothed grin almost splitting his face in two. “You and your little
friends are surrounded. Just give me the box and I’ll scratch gravel. Just
the box.” The box? Suselow despaired. What have I gotten into here? What the hell is so important about it? The
Statoone went into defensive postures and raised their weapons, eliciting a
violent response from the cowled figure and his cohorts. Blaster bolts
screamed down into the alley, striking the reptiles and throwing them in all
directions. Their return fire was weak and ill-aimed and thin beams of
low-power energy passed wide of the intended targets. Suselow
knew better than to back a loser and started to turn for the alley entrance,
only to see Stormtroopers advancing to investigate the weapon noise. Her only
alternative was to head down the
alley. Past Statoone being slaughtered and right under the attackers. The
sound of the Stormtrooper squad leader shouting for order made up her mind
for her; better to be shot to death by Cowl and his friends than fall into
Imperial hands and lose the box to them. She did not know the importance of
the box but she was sure of one thing. People were willing to kill for it. In
large numbers. Her
legs threw her down the alley as more shots exploded around her. The
Statoone, defiant to the last, stood their ground but their attempt was cut
short as the Stormtroopers, their shouts for order ignored, dropped to their
knees and opened fire on anything that moved. All around her was pandemonium.
Statoone screaming and dying, blaster bolts erupting all around her,
Stormtroopers choosing their targets and putting their quarry down. The alley
was thick with smoke and noise. As
Suselow passed under Cowl’s position and dived to the door that was recessed
into the wall she pulled off a snapshot upwards. She heard a satisfying thump
and a groan, and as she burst into the room beyond the door she also heard
someone crash to the ground, evidently falling from the roof. The
room was sparsely furnished with many stained sleeping mats covering the
floor. She ignored the screams of three female Statoone and hurled herself at
the open window leading out into the street. She hit the floor and rolled,
causing some passers by to move from her with exclamations. She picked
herself up, dusted off her clothes and did her best to appear calm. Quickly,
she slipped into the crowds, leaving the blasters and the shouts echoing
behind her. It
took her nearly an hour to reach her hotel room. The squat was as dirty as
the Statoone hovel she had burst in on but it served her purpose. It was out
of the way and she was short of funds, anyway, as she awaited the chance to
buy passage off the planet. The
box. The box seemed to glare at her, unadorned, unmarked. It was a simple
affair with a small catch that released the spring-loaded lid. It would be
easy to... ...no! Dressel had employed her to simply
pick up the box and get it back to him. It was just a small item and it would
be her ticket into the heart of Dressel’s organisation. It was, after all,
her first important job for him after months of service and he would make
sure she had followed his instructions. But
still, there was no obvious alarm system. It wasn’t locked, it wasn’t sealed
in any way and as far as she could see it was simply what it appeared. A box. Would
he know? After all, she had just risked her life for this small item so she deserved
to look. But
Dressel... But
the box... "Damn!”
she cursed and slammed her fist into the wall. Through gritted teeth she
stared at the box. “Your curiosity will kill you, girl.” She
shrugged. Quickly
she scooped up the box and checked it over for any kind of sensor. After she
satisfied herself it wasn’t trapped, she flicked the catch and allowed the
lid to spring up. She
narrowed her eyes, expecting something to happen, but the box did nothing
except give a small hiss as its apparent vacuum seal was split. Inside was a
small folded flimsy. And
nothing else. People have been dying over a
flimsy? She thought in confusion
and, making sure her gloves wouldn’t leave any marks on the plastic sheet,
took it out and unfolded it. With shock she stared at the title of the
written material, which had been scribed in basic. Dear Suselow. She
shook her head. Oh, stang. Dear Suselow. If you’re reading this
then you have successfully recovered the black box from the Statoone and now
have it in your possession. I made sure that the box was known throughout
circles of its importance to me, and as you know, what is dear to one
ganglord is a danger to others. No doubt you have been in competition to get
this box. Congratulations for getting to it first. Unfortunately, you reading this also
means that you have given into temptation and opened the box. I gave
instructions that you were to return this to me promptly, with no delay. The
contents were none of your concern. You opening the box has
invalidated your chances of working for me. I need personnel who do what I
bid and nothing else. Don’t bother re-sealing the box and returning it to me.
I vacuum sealed it and filled it with a harmless gas that is now evaporated.
I’ll know if you have opened this box. If someone else opened it then your
lack of skill is evident. You failed to acquire it before whoever had it
opened it. You’re fired. Dressel. Suselow
stared at the flimsy and then screwed it up in her fist. Besides the danger
she had faced and the fact that she was now unemployed, she still found it
difficult not to smile. The
Chance of Promotion 2000 short story by Jonathan Hicks Five years before Episode
IV – A New Hope Histories – This short tale tells of Suselow, an employee of both Glann Cipple and Dressel, before her retirement from the smuggling game and her work for Trace Dallagra on Chancai. For a time a successful
operator for Cipple, Suselow never quite managed to live up to that
reputation for Dressel, hence her decision to leave that career behind.
Cast of Characters
Suselow |