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Body of Evidence 2002/2003/2006 short story by
Jonathan Hicks, Mark Newbold and Louis Turfrey Four
years after Episode IV – A New Hope Darrik Alorn smiled and checked the healthy amount of
credits in his cred stick. Thirty thousand for a single spice drop. Enough to
keep Jabba sweet and see that the bounty on his head disappears permanently.
He grabbed a cool drink from the refrigeration unit and opened the doorway to
the ramp. Halfway down he stopped, surveying the
harsh world where he’d landed. Trassus, what a dump he thought to
himself. Just the place Glann Cipple wouldn’t look for a man who’d
just ripped off fifty thousand credits worth of spice. He hoped. Alorn lowered himself and sat on the bottom of the ramp
for a moment, contemplating what he’d done. He’d made an enemy of the biggest
crime lord in the Setnin Sector, and knew that very soon his betrayal would
be discovered. He stood to move back into the ship when he noticed movement
out of the corner of his eye. Turning rapidly, he caught sight of something
moving in the rocks to the right of him. The final thing that went through
his head before the blaster bolt hit it was the realisation that maybe he’d
left things just a little too late. His body hit the ground in silence. Then slowly, figures emerged
from the surrounding terrain. A man clad entirely in black clothing rose like
a wraith from one of the dunes to the left of the body. To the south of the
body, a man dressed in body armour holding an Imperial blaster moved out of
the rocks. To north, a flash of orange and purple and a tall humanoid
appeared out of the scrub. To the
east, a black armoured man jumped down from a nearby outcropping, landing
flawlessly. All four moved towards the body, all four wary of the others… Goah Galletti
This is not a problem. I’ve travelled eighteen systems, skipped nine patrols and
avoided three territorial skirmishes to get here, to find this man. But that
is not a problem. That is the nature of the job. I cannot be guaranteed
success in every venture, I cannot expect that every target will present no
threat and I cannot be safe in the knowledge that each job will be flawless
in planning, meticulate in execution. All I can
expect is problems and unforeseen circumstances. I have scars and replacement
body parts to testify to that. Trassus
is not my favourite place. It’s dusty and hot, making my weapon’s function
all the more precarious. It is a precision instrument that I only use for
long-range purposes, but Trassus negates the use of long-range due to its powerful
dust storms. And
now, finally, the storm has died, I reach my target and he is dead. Tracking
Darrik Alorn had not been difficult; in all respects the man was an idiot,
but had ultimately, proved to be futile. The fact that he is dead does not perplex me. He was the
usual two-faced double-crossing scum that populates this part of space so he
no doubt made many enemies throughout his travels. Whether I got to him first
was a simple question of chance and probability. But
one thing does perplex me. Why do these three other men - men I know, men I
have seen in action and followed by reputation – stand around the body?
Darrik Alorn was a petty criminal who thought he had struck big by slicing
away an insignificant fraction of Glann Cipple’s interplanetary empire. I was
sent to make an example of him, as per the unspoken rules, so why the
presence of these other three? Ryath Centaur I could not believe would track this man
for anything as ignoble as Glann’s request. You could have offered him the
galaxy and he would have made sure the terms of employment did not contradict
his personal view of ethics and therefore make him a hypocrite. He was a
valiant man and had a code, which, in this line of business, made him a fool
with an increased chance of failure. I have asked myself many times why he is
in this position, in this slice of the underworld life, and I have come to
the conclusion that he is not here of his own volition. I understand he is on
what Himbimimam would call a ‘quest’, a
long arduous journey with many obstacles to complete a task that fate has set
him. The underworld facilitates his movement within and without official
channels. Which is why I do not trust him. He is not here to serve, aid or profit from any of the organisations that
control the underworld. He is here to serve himself, aid his own agenda and
profit from whatever it is he is looking for. This makes him a dangerous man,
as he has no interest in the completion of contracts and the carrying out of
instructions if they do not help him in his ‘quest’. I will probably have to
kill him at some point in the future, so it is necessary for me to allow him
latitude in his movements and actions. If I observe his skill, then perhaps I
can ascertain what it is he wants. Some people would tell you my observation
is my concern over his threat to me and my employer,
some will tell you it is professional curiosity. The simple matter is, it makes me a more efficient killer. So why is he here? He would not involve himself in such a
hunt, a simple track and eliminate, as such things are not in his manner.
Perhaps he would consider such things ‘beneath’ his moral code; a leftover
military credo that he believes still makes some sense in the outside world.
Perhaps he clings to petty dreams of servitude and honourable conduct, as if
such things were an aid, not a hindrance, in the company with which he mixes.
So he is not here in any capacity as an employee. So, is it a personal agenda? Perhaps. He is on a ‘quest’,
after all, and this man may have been a link in this search for whatever it
is he deems so important to risk his life for. If that is the case, and he
killed him, then this must be the end of his ‘quest’, as he has eliminated
the man before questioning him and ascertaining where he should go next on
his ‘journey’. Or perhaps he is here to aide his friend, Jan Lomona. One understands Jan Lomona from their particular
perspective. He is either a ‘friend’, in which I mean he
shares jokes and purchases drinks, an ‘enemy’, which means he
undercuts smuggling jobs and makes one-liner jokes, or a ‘competitor’, which
means he is trying to outdo you in something and needs the last word. There are many people who regard him as a ‘friend’, but
that is hardly surprising when he walks into Zythlies after yet another
successful trip and buys drinks for all, entertaining his fellows with
stories and jokes. I do not find it amazing that he succeeds in his work;
Lomona is not the kind of man to take risks and therefore tries to take jobs
with the minimum of danger. For a man who, from other people’s testimony has
the ‘fastest draw’, the ‘sense of a Jedi’ and the ‘best piloting skills this
side of the slice’, I have never actually seen these skills put to the test.
I can rely on Lomona to land his vessel and drop me off, and then find him
waiting for me when I return. That is all I can honestly testify to. One has
to wonder how many of these skills are actual ability or the simple telling
of tall tales. A sharp mouth can be a boon, but it is of no avail when the
bolts are flying and death is in the air. He appears to always be a ‘competitor’ and has ‘enemies’,
as his actions, words and demeanour suggests the air of a man who wants his
own way. He will do almost anything to get what he wants. I do not think he
would blatantly kill or murder as I would, but if there are deaths connected
to his actions I have not seen him concern himself with it. After all, it is
all part of the business. He fails to realise that there are many angles to
the business, not just the part he represents, so he gives them little heed.
Because of this he works for more than one employer and does not think
himself loyal to Glann so he may constitute a threat. I feel, not in the far
distant future, I shall have to kill him. So,
would he have killed Darrik Alorn? I find it possible, for any of the above
reasons. If the body had constituted a threat in any way or form to his
business or reputation I do not see a reason why he would not have shot him.
He does realise the risks involved and the necessity for violence and perhaps
a clean shot to the head does not fit in with his view on life but men can be
pushed to acts beyond their personality if they are driven to it. Darrik was
a double crosser that had sliced through the unspoken rules and taken for himself. Perhaps he had cut across Lomona’s patch and was
a threat to him, his dealings threatening Lomona’s own secret thefts and
jobs, which he would have preferred Glann not to know about. Would that have
driven him to murder? I do not see why not. Besides, the dead man had a lot
of money. Modifications on starships do not come cheap. But
would he do it himself? Or would he hire someone like Tarr Ranth? The
third attendee at this death is the black-armoured bounty hunter. He appears
an ominous sight, but that is the reaction of those who are easily swayed by
such imagery. If they had stopped to consider the true root of their concern
over his presence they would realise that they had only the imagery to be
afraid of as Ranth uses the reputation of others, namely Boba Fett and Jodo Kast, to enhance his own. He is
a highly honourable man, with a code of conduct more intense and constricting
than Centaur’s. This may have benefited him on the battlefield, but this is
not a war zone; this is a market for death in all its forms and appearances.
I do not see how ethics can aid a man in such a world. Ranth
has a very devious mind. Many do not see it as they are usually on the
receiving end of his treachery and do not have time to consider how they were
trapped. He uses as many legal tricks and twists as he can to get his target
and constrict the ability of others of his trade to do the same. His reliance
on these tricks, and the many hidden gadgets and skill aides he has built
into his armour, makes me wonder just how good at his job he is. If you
removed his legal wranglings, stripped him of his
armour and gadgets and placed him in an arena with an average warrior I think
the betting would be even on both sides. I have
to ask the question as to what insecurities he has that makes him want to
protect himself under a metal skin that has a trick
for every eventuality? I had the same problem, a long time ago. I needed to
be secure in the fact that I could do the job so I purchased every
problem-solving gadget I could get. But I learnt that the over-reliance and
failure of such gadgets could be fatal. I am not interested in reputation. I
am interested in results. I have to wonder what Ranth is interested in. His
high moral code is not suited to the role of a bounty hunter, so why is he
doing it? His
appearance in the Setnin Sector is an enigma to most but nothing more than a
concern to me. He is dangerous but also highly ethical, which makes him a
threat. At the most, Glann wonders whose side is he on and why he acts in
such a way. I think, if Glann deems it necessary, I
shall kill him some time soon. So
would he have shot Darrik Alorn, for personal intent or by instruction? I do
not see why not. He is a bounty hunter, after all, and this was a wanted man.
But would he take a sanction to kill? Why not? Ranth has been in the business
long enough. Moral codes and
reputations do not keep the jobs rolling in, and I think he is malicious
enough to kill outright, attributed to the fact that he feels the need to be
threatening yet ambiguous in his intent. A dead target is an easy target to
take back, and the pay is the same either way. The
body holds no interest for me, now. He is a dead target, one I did not get,
so I will report to Glann and leave it at that. No doubt the men standing
about me are wondering the same as I, but I imagine they will come to the
same conclusion; Goah Galletti killed him. For they would be correct in their
assumptions, for I am a cheat, a liar, a murderer and, according too many of
the regulars in Zythlies, a psychotic. So my accusations and thoughts are
futile. I will
leave this site and leave the true killer to his spoils. There is no need for
me to stay. They’ll
all think I did it, anyway. Jan Lomona
Well
Darrik, I’ve gotta hand it to you.
That’s one sure-fire way to get on my good side. On a long list of planets, Trassus has got to come close
to the top of my least favourites.
After Janos, Ferrerea, Alorea, maybe Mengenta, Trassus is right up
there. It could be the punishing
weather, it could be the non-existent hospitality or it could be that it
takes an age through a tricky hyperspace route to get here, but whatever the
reason, I hate Trassus. With a
passion. But, I’d learned through some of my more talkative
sources that the scheming sonofakrayt Alorn had
managed to make it to Trassus and was obviously hoping that none of his many
followers would bother to trail him here.
But Darrik and me were going to have words,
and I decided that I could leave my Trac-Tran dealings in the capable hands
of my staff while I set out to find Mister Alorn. Thankfully, the Sunrise gave me an easy ride
and my starmaps were still pretty hot.
Trassus dropped into view and I was already thinking of the many witty
and sarcastic ways I could embarrass him before blasting his ass into the
void. But somebody had managed to get to him before me. So, here we are.
Me, Goah Galletti, Ryath Centaur and Tarr Ranth, standing on a dusty
desert plain, wind blasting us like sails, the hot sun setting over a distant
horizon. All of us eyeing each other
with suspicion, wondering which one of us nailed the creep. I’ve got to start out and say that I’ll lose no sleep
about Darriks death. In fact, whoever did it saved me the effort
and the cost of a well-aimed blaster bolt.
But I would have done it, even though hunting people down is not the
kind of thing I do. In fact, I only
did it once before, with an ex-Trac-Tran employee who killed a friend of
mine. I admit, that felt good, but I was
also pretty sure that he’d be the only one I’d actively hunt. Smuggler, free trader, wheeler-dealer,
governor of the city of Ecaps, a million other things, but assassin? No, that’s not the way I operate. Unlike some of my colleagues who stood around the body
and me. I look across at Ryath and raise my eyebrows, and he
returns the gesture. Of the four of us
here Ry is the one I’m tightest with.
I think it’s probably because we both share strict Imperial
backgrounds, and even though I have no love for the Empire and couldn’t wait
to blast off my homeworld of A-desando and leave my Imperial family behind, I
understand the philosophy behind Ry’s upbringing and training as an Imperial
soldier. And I think for his part he
can see why I needed to break from the shackles of that background, become my
own person. Let’s face it; I would
have been the worst Imperial officer in the entire New Order. But Ry’s a natural, a born leader,
something borne out by his recent involvement with the Iron Claws, the
mercenary group that he operates. I
have a lot of time for Ryath, and I know he’ll watch my back when we’re in a
pinch. And I hope he knows I’d do the
same for him. I’ve made a lot of
so-called friends in this business, but most are just acquaintances. The real friends I can count on one hand, and Ryath’s one
of them. So whatever the reason for
Ryath being here, whatever his interest might be in Darrik Alorn, and I don’t
know what that interest is, it’s fine by me. As for Goah Galletti, I just don’t know. He’s my likeliest suspect. I’m ninety-nine percent sure he’s here on
order of Glann Cipple to bump off Alorn, and everyone knows there’s enough
dirt on the frecker to justify that a thousand times over. But as for Galletti himself, I just can’t
fathom the guy out anymore. We used to
be partners, really good friends. He
came into the business a little while after I did and was greener than a
Rodians butt, but it didn’t take him long to get a grip on life in the
underworld. I know people grow and
change, but certain things happened between me and Goah to sour that
friendship. Like him having an affair
with my fiancé, or being responsible for destroying an entire planet, an
incident we…kind of fell out over.
Little things like that can make you think twice about people. Nowadays he’s not a smuggler; he’s a
stone-cold killer. And being the
peace-loving type, I’m not too keen on hanging around with a guy who thinks
more about what shade of black he’s gonna wear today than how many targets
he’s gonna kill. And I know my style
doesn’t go down well with him anymore.
He used to think my being brash was funny. Now it annoys him. My way with women, my loose morals, my not
being loyal to Glann. All these things
used to be shrugged off with ease, but now I watch him and I can see the
veins bulge on the side of his head.
Something happened to my old friend, and whatever it was it changed
him. I’m not too sure I like what’s
been left in his place. But did he kill Darrik Alorn? Probably. That said, our other suspect is just as likely to have
swooped in on his jet pack for the bounty, and let’s face it, it was a hell
of a bounty on Alorns head. Tarr Ranth
is someone I don’t know too well, but have seen in action a few times. If he wanted Alorn dead he has more than
enough equipment to get the job done. He’s a skilled operator, an efficient bounty
hunter and one hell of an imposing character.
If you’re intimidated by Mandalorian armour and broad threats, which
I’m personally not but many are, then Ranth would be an imposing threat. He knows well what he does best and carries
out his actions accordingly, playing to his strengths. I never know what’s coming around the
corner, but I know how to deal with stuff when it does, or so I’d like to
think. Ranth is a man who manages to
manipulate the situations he’s placed in and therefore makes his own
rules. He’s got some weird ideologies
for a bounty hunter, but no stranger than mine, Ryath’s or certainly
Galletti’s. On the face of it I’d have
to make Ranth my second favourite as a suspect for this murder. But then, was it really a murder? Alorn was a cheat, a con man, a grifter of
the first order. He’s conned Hutts, he
conned Imperials, Rebels, policemen, Setnin Justice Department officers, you
name it, he’s conned them all. He even tried to con me. I’ve kept the TTTC running at a low level because I’ve
had so many other things going on, but I never wanted to let it go
entirely. Besides, you never know what
the future might bring. In the past
year I’ve been governor of Ecaps, had a daughter I never even knew existed
turn up on my doorstep and been forced to leave the sector for six months
because Jabba wanted me and Galletti dead.
Interesting times. Anyway, the
TTTC was still running and still profitable.
And then out of the blue Alorn turns up, offers me some hot runs and
new contacts for the TTTC in return for some regular work and a slice of the
profits. Now, I’m an easygoing kind of
guy, but I’m smart enough to know a good deal when I hear it. On the face of it, this was a very good
deal. But I also have a sixth sense
about things, and my neck was tingling like a static charge – this deal was
way too good to be true. I agreed to
the deal verbally, but refused to sign anything until the jobs had begun. Alorn didn’t like that, but he agreed. After he’d gone I began to look into the
details of this deal, just as a precaution.
And when I found out what it was he had set up my blood began to boil. Now I’ll be honest, I’ll transport pretty much anything
for a price. Weapons? It’s part of the Setnin Constitution, so
why not? Spice? Look, if there are whackos
out there crazy enough to fry their brains with that stuff, who am I to
preach? Creatures? Of course!
We can’t all watch fish swim round a bowl, or eat vegetables all
day. Holovids
of…questionable adult content? Fine by
me, as long as I get to check the merchandise. But one thing I flat down refuse to carry
is slaves. I’m no slaver, and I never
will be, no matter how difficult things get.
It turns my gut, because I’ve seen enough of the galaxy to know what
happens to these folks. Prostitution,
extortion, slave labour and worse.
This is a sick freak universe, and I don’t want to add my name to the
list of freckers who’ve made it that way.
So, these jobs Alorn would do for me, using my name and my ships,
were slavers runs to the Outer Rim. No
chance, not today, never gonna happen.
I waited for him to get back from Chancai, where he was
finalising the rough edges of this fake deal, and asked for him to meet me at
the Sunrise. And he walked in, smiling like he’d just
lost an egg and found a Rancor, and that’s when I laid it on the line, told
him I’d figured him out and that he was in hot water. Before I realised what was happening the sonofabantha out-drew me and stunned me into the next
day. When I came too my head ached
like crazy, and luckily for me Aurran was there to help. I looked into Alorns background and
discovered he was doing jobs for Glann, so I told the boss what had
happened. Lucky I did, because he’d
also begun to suspect Alorns activities and told me to hit the lanes and find
the creep. And I did. I tracked him down. All the way here, to Trassus. And here I am.
Blown to hell in a dust storm, watching Ry, Galletti and Ranth eye
each other like one of us is about to grow another head. I kinda wish I
could. I’ll need all the brainpower I
can get to figure this one out…
Tarr Ranth
The man lies silently on the
ground. I know this because I watched him die there, but not by my hand.
True, I was targeting him for execution, but I did not strike the fatal blow.
I know this because I saw the bolt hit him a fraction of a second before I
would have activated my weapon. I know I did not kill him, because my weapon
did not fire. Why waste a shot when somebody else can do the work for you? Three others emerge from the surrounding scrub and rock
formations. I am not surprised to see two of those that are present, but I am
surprised to see the third. Jan Lomona does not have a reputation as a
killer. He is a smuggler and a pilot, the like of which you can find
populating most parts of the galaxy. However, something about Lomona puts him
above most of the rest of his peers. Maybe it is his consummate good luck, or
his outlandish dress sense. It could be his ship, among the fastest in the
sector, next to mine that is, or his ability to outdraw most people who draw
upon him. Or it could be his smugglers honour, that seeming loyalty to his
friends. Whatever his reasons for being here, I do not imagine Lomona would
have killed the man before me in cold blood. It's not his style. This takes me to Ryath Centaur, a man I know mostly by
reputation. Although we have worked different ends of the same missions, we
have rarely met and then only as fellow employees of Glann Cipple. I know he
has his own agenda, exactly what that is eludes me. I suspect that in the
fullness of time I will find out. His manner and bearing is that of an
officer, but he wears no identifying uniform. He seems to favour Imperial
weapons, which is of no surprise as I know he is an ex-Imperial officer. He
did not kill the man in front of me though, as the shot came from a different
angle. The only individual standing anywhere near the source of the bolt was
the man standing in black who now occupies the space to my right. Galletti, his name draws sharp intakes of breath from
most of those who know of his reputation. He is a ruthless killer, an
assassin of the worst type. Not a man that does his job for money, but I
believe a man who does his job because he enjoys it. Whatever it was that
turned a smuggler of some repute into a mass murderer must have destroyed
that part of his brain that reasons. I have received reports that he often
looses his calm for no apparent reason and even now he displays the
mannerisms of a creature unsure of its footing. No, he did not kill the man
before me. If he had, he would not now be standing before us; he would be
heading off towards his next assignment. I stare at him, bringing my
bio-scanner online and see the mass of cybernetic construction that holds his
body together. No this is no longer a man, this is a
killing machine, and an unstable one at that. I will watch out for his
bounty, he may be a man worthy of tracking down. So who is the killer? I rewind the holographic recording
that I always make before taking a bounty. A bolt comes from the same
direction as Galletti, but from an area just above where he emerged. I turn
my head slightly, using my optical scanners to zoom in on an area of rock.
Whoever took that shot was a long way away. Whoever he is, I estimate he is
long gone now. But I will find him. I
had the bounty on this man, and whoever took him out cost me the bounty.
Bounty hunter or not, whoever killed the man before me will pay me what he owes
me. I don't like losing, and I don't intend to make a habit
of it. Ryath Centaur
It wasn’t my
intention to be here, but circumstances led the way and I simply followed. I had been in deep
cover, working an Iron Claws mission on Varoone when someone I wasn’t
expecting to see crossed my path. Carlonian Feese. He didn’t see me
but I certainly saw him, arriving on Varoone like a wraith and sniping out my
intended target. I had tracked my
quarry for days, following him around the sector, gathering the evidence I
needed to bring him in. But Feese
ruined all of that. I wasn’t going to
stand for it, and made it my intention to have a face-to-face conversation
with the assassin, straighten a few things out. Don’t get me wrong,
I’m not in the business of looking for trouble, but me, Clara and Saul had
just got the Iron Claws off the ground and a strong start was essential to
build a solid reputation. People like
Feese coming in and spoiling the party was certainly not on the agenda. Feese naturally
returned to Amagad to tell Cipple of his dealings and within an hour was
refuelled and leaving planet again. I
followed in hot pursuit, just far enough behind to avoid detection. That’s the advantage of the Thunderchild. She’s a small ship in a
profession that usually dictates larger vessels, but I find her more than
capable of fulfilling every requirement I make of her. Feese hit hyperspace and, after a
protracted weave through the lanes, we dropped out here. Trassus. As soon as I did a
scan I registered the familiar outlines of three ships. Galletti was here in the Phoenix, Ranth in the Dark Star
and Jan in the Sunrise. I knew there was more to this than simple
coincidence, and eager to learn more I travelled inwards. When I landed I
realised that the three ships were parked well away from each other. Unusual for what appeared to be an arranged
meeting. I parked the Thunderchild in a secluded spot and made my way in on foot, following the signal
that the tracker beacon aboard Feese’s ship The Deadmans Dream was emitting. I spotted him leave his vessel and ducked
down, not wishing to be detected, although knowing Feese that wish had likely
already been broken. The journey took us
into an open plain where, in the centre, lay a parked freighter. It wasn’t a model or vessel I was familiar
with and I paused as I ducked down behind an outcrop of rocks, the wind
howling around like a dragons cry. From my vantage
point I could see that we were not alone.
A flap of wind flicked out the orange and purple jacket of Lomona, and
a glint of light flashed off the rocket pack of Tarr Ranth in the rocks above. I spotted Galletti behind a sand dune, his
black clothing scarcely visible but I had lost track of Feese. I had no idea what the purpose of this
`meeting’ was, and as an unfamiliar man walked down the ramp, pausing to take
in the meagre view, I watched with voyeuristic interest. The man sat down, clearly lost in his own
thoughts and glanced to his right as I gripped my blaster rifle tightly. And then, seemingly
from out of nowhere, a blaster bolt carved a neat hole through the mans head. I watched in cold
fascination as the body slumped down and rolled off the ramp to the dusty
floor below and came to rest. I waited
for the next move, which came within moments as Galletti left the cover of
his sand dune. I opted to stand and
move into the plain, followed by Jan and Ranth who had taken a higher vantage
point. We all stood,
looking at each other intently. I
catch Jan’s eye and we raise our eyebrows at each other. I know he didn’t shoot the killer blow, but
he doesn’t know that it wasn’t me. I
give Galletti a blank, flat stare and show the same face to Ranth, his helmet
hiding his true face. I think through
the angles and swiftly realise that none of us standing here could have possibly
administered the killer blow. From
where Ranth was placed the angle was all wrong. Jan sets his blaster on a wider dispersal
and a shot from such close range would have removed the
mans head almost completely.
Galletti was also at the wrong angle for such a shot but usually
hunted in one of two ways – extreme long distance or face-to-face. This was neither. Which left the only alternative. Feese. The four of us
remained still, eyeing each other intently until it became clear that if
no-one broke the silence with words it would likely be shattered by the echo of
a blaster bolt. Naturally Lomona spoke
first. “Nice shooting
G. Glad to see that blowing up planets
hasn’t dulled your killer instincts.” Galletti practically snarled at Jan as he turned and gave
him a cold stare. “Save it
Lomona. I didn’t do this.” “Really?” Said Jan, turning to face Galletti head on
and furrowing his brow. “Because the odds
are pretty heavily stacked against you on this one. I don’t do the in cold blood thing.”
Lomona glanced at Ryath. “And he
doesn’t either.” “You expect us
to believe that?” It was Ranth, who
folded his arms across his chest and stepped forward. “The two of you could be in collusion.” “And what would
that gain us?” Asked Centaur, giving
Ranth a sideways disparaging glance.
The black armoured bounty hunter cocked his head. “A
reputation. You have just embarked on
a new venture with your mercenary group.
A hit like this would give you a huge profile.” “As it would
yours.” Added Galletti, turning his
glare away from the towering smuggler and onto the bounty hunter. “A hit on Alorn would go a long way towards
improving your standing with Cipple.”
Glann twisted his face into a look of virtual disgust. “And shooting people when they’re not expecting
it is very much your M.O.” Jan shook his head as the conversation steered towards
argument and raised his hands. “Listen folks,
simple way of settling this. Guns
out. Check the nozzles. Whoever fired the shot will be holding a
warm barrel.” He glanced at the three
of them. “Make sense?” “Agreed.” Said Ranth, and brought up his blaster
rifle. Ryath raised his immediately,
followed reluctantly by Galletti. Each
man touched each firearm, looking at the others with looks of
suspicion evident on their faces. The barrels were all cold. Jan glanced swiftly at Ryath, and then to the other two. “You know what
this means, don’t you?” They did, all four of them, and in a lightening flash
their weapons were drawn to bear, backs to each other pointing out in all
four directions. Jans face was a study
in concentration as his eyes surveyed the terrain, Goahs eyes darted life to
right like a lizard. Ranths helmet
betrayed nothing of his true eyes, but a steady red light scanned the area
searching for the true killer that could be targeting them right now. And Ryath Centaurs eyes looked back towards the direction
he’d just come from and waited for the streak of light that would be
Carlonian Feeses starship lifting off into the skies. And aboard The
Deadmans Dream Feese laughed as Trassus shrank into the distance. Body of Evidence 2002/2003/2006 short story by Jonathan
Hicks, Mark Newbold and Louis Turfrey Four
years after Episode IV – A New Hope Histories – A rare tale featuring the four main Lightsabre characters. All converging
onto one place for different reasons, the smuggler, assassin, mercenary and
bounty hunter all stand over the body of a dead man, trying to figure out
which of the others committed the crime.
Set just a few short weeks after the destruction of Escall, this is the first time Lomona and Galletti have spoken since.
Cast of Characters
Darrik
Alorn Goah
Galletti Jan
Lomona Tarr
Ranth Ryath
Centaur Carlonian
Feese |