Wrong Reasons

2001 short story by Jonathan Hicks

Five years after Episode IV – A New Hope

Fear.

A feeling that increased in intensity as Korna Reygs watched Rondosarn slowly cut into the lock mechanism of the outside door.

Korna looked about the deserted alleyway nervously. He had his weapon to hand – although Rondosarn had insisted that he didn’t bring a blaster of any kind – and checked for the umpteenth time that it was set to stun. He pulled at his small chin beard and tapped the huge scaly being he was with on the shoulder.

Rondosarn slowly turned to look at the human. “What?” he whispered. His secondary eyelids closed and opened vertically in the flashing light of the cutting laser.

“Are you through yet?” Korna cast another glance up the dark alley.

“I would be if I didn’t have to keep stopping to talk to you,” Rondosarn murmured. His voice was light, which was a strange contrast to his large physique, but even so Korna nodded and kept quiet. Rondosarn continued cutting through the locking bar of the security door.

The branch of the Bank of Zelon they were breaking in to was well secured but Korna had an edge; he had helped design many security systems for buildings such as this in the past and had a working knowledge of this kind of work. Still, knowing that he could do it didn’t mean he felt assured he could get away with it.

Rondosarn had done many break-ins before but he had never tried for a target so large. His specialty was starships and lock-ups, but the Bank of Zelon, even just this branch on the wind-swept world of Alorea, made him nervous. Unfortunately, Korna’s nervousness only served to increase his own.

There was a thump and a grinding sound and the locking bar, separated from the mechanism that held it in place, slowly receded into the floor and freed the door. Rondosarn pocket the laser cutter and held up a small monocle-type item that he placed to his eye and surveyed the door further.

“There’s anti-force sensors and tremblers, but they’ve disengaged now that the bar unlocked,” he reported.

“As I said they would,” Korna said with a smile. His face dropped and he scanned the alley again. “Not well designed are these doors,” he said quickly, “but can we go in now, please?”

Rondosarn watched with a shaking head as Korna hefted a huge bag over his shoulder and gave the door a slight push. The sensors within the portal detected the pressure and slid open automatically.

The room inside was dimly lit with the light source emanating from overhead strips. The room was obviously the main reception, with the blast-shield covered front doors criss-crossed with sensornet beams and the tellerdroid portals sealed by force fields. The room was wide and spacious, covered with steaming plants and crawlers that reflected the planet outside.

Rondosarn looked about with a small datapad in his hand, waiting for Korna who was closing the open door behind them. “Outside door goes straight into the reception,” he whispered with a shake of his head. “Not clever.”

“It’s only a small branch with not a lot of space,” Korna said as he activated his own datapad.

“Holo-cameras?” Rondosarn looked about the dark corners of the room, searching for the telltale signs of recording devices.

“Nope. They’re routed through the same system as the doors and only come on if they’re tampered with. They’re shut off when the door is opened normally.”

“What…?”

“Saves both energy and wear and tear. If you know where to cut through the door and fool the system into thinking it’s been opened normally, like we did, then we won’t be recorded.”

Rondosarn looked at Korna with a cynical eye.

“And you were sure that was going to happen?”

“No.”

“So what if you’d been wrong?”

Korna smiled.

“If I’d been wrong we would’ve been off down that alley before you could say ‘attempted break in’. Hey, don’t worry. Just think of all those credits waiting for us.”

Rondosarn wasn’t impressed but he decided not to comment. They had both gone past the point of no return by stepping through the open door so it wouldn’t help to risk the situation with a disagreement on skill. He swept the room with his eyes and compared the layout to the picture that appeared on his pad.

“Entrance to the powersafe is down the corridor behind teller three’s portal,” he said, motioning to the place with his head. At the sound of Korna’s grunt he turned to see the man hefting the large heavy bag of his shoulder to the floor with little elegance.

“Will you be careful with that?” Rondosarn hissed. “The bag might split!”

“You’re twice the size of me,” Korna groaned. “Why don’t you carry it?”

“You’re the man with the knowledge, I’m the being with the tools. Now come on!”

As quickly as they could, with Rondosarn in the lead moving slowly on the lookout for surprises and Korna in the rear with the weight of the bag slowing him down, they headed along the darker side of the reception and headed to the end of the tellerdroid portals. They came to a deactivated ‘droid attached permanently to a seat behind a long, shimmering energy field.

“So how do you…?”

Rondosarn had barely begun his sentence when Korna stepped forward and kicked the underside of the portal where it jutted out as a ledge for customers to use as they made their transactions. The energy field died for a second and then came back on.

“The emitters for the shield are lengthways across the bottom of the opening and meet at the top. The ledge is easily moved and it misaligns the emitter.” Korna smiled as he took a long pole out of a side pocket of the bag, placed it under the ledge and jammed it up. It bent upwards slightly and the shield died.

With a shake of his head Rondosarn started to climb through.

“Talk about cutting corners.”

“It’s a bank. They’re here to make money, not spend it.” Korna passed the heavy bag through and climbed through himself. On the other side was the access way to the corridor that led to the powersafe.

As they walked down the corridor Rondosarn said, “Are you sure you can get us in to the vault?”

Korna sighed heavily.

“I don’t know what kind it is. We’ll see.”

At the end of the corridor was a darkened area that caused both the beings to squint to see well in the darkness. Unfortunately the area was so void illumination that they were forced to dip their hands into their pockets and bring out their handlumes. Korna checked there were no windows in the vicinity that flickering lights could be seen through and nodded it was okay.

The sight that confronted them when they switched on their lights made Rondosarn look at his compatriot with worry. The round vault door was huge, at least three meters high and three meters across, with a gigantic circular lock in the centre that flashed with numbers and small lights. It reflected the lights of their lumes, polished silver as it was, and they started at their own concerned faces.

“Freck, it’s a small Chancai Special,” Korna whispered.

“What does that mean?” Rondosarn whispered back.

“It means that it’ll take longer than I thought,” Korna whispered in response.

“Why are we whispering?” Rondosarn whispered.

“I don’t know, there’s not a living being for two kilometres,” Korna whispered with a slightly confused expression.

“Then get to work, then!” Rondosarn said in a raised voice. Korna flinched at the abrasiveness of his words and placed the large bag down on the ground, unsealing it lengthways. Out of the bag came a tripod, then a long tube, then a control panel…

Rondosarn felt his primary eyelids getting heavy as the droning of the precision fusion beam filled his ears. The constant low note of the impossibly thin, almost invisible beam made him feel warm and comfortable; being born in the engine bay of an interstellar courier ship had left him with some strange habits.

Korna hovered over the beam projector. The control panel in his hand told him he had cut through three of the four locks and was almost through the last one. He had to stop the beam before it cut too far through the last lock as the vault door had sensors which told it to call for help should they be broken by explosives or cutting devices.

But Korna knew exactly where the beams criss-crossed inside the lock, had positioned the miniature fusion cutter so that it’s needle-like beam cut through the locks between the beams.

There was a hissing sound followed by a bass rumble. Rondosarn’s eyes snapped open, roused from his half-sleep, and he sat bolt upright as Korna jumped back, his thumb pressing down on the control stud that switched the cutting beam off.

The vault door continued to rumble, and then the great circular disc in its centre started to rotate. It turned faster and faster until it was nothing but a blur and it slowly started to slide out of the door as a long silver cylinder.

The vault door began to open, swinging inwards whilst the centre still span furiously. Gases hissed form it’s hydraulic locks as each one disengaged, the two-metre thick door disappearing in steam and mist.

A bright light burst through the haze as the interior of the vault lit up automatically. As the rumbling began to die down the long rotating cylinder began to recede until it slowed and took its original position in the centre of the door. Everything fell silent.

There was nothing either being was capable of saying. All they could do was stare.

Racks upon racks of jewel storage containers. Credit deposit boxes. Secure boxes. Money safes. Personal safety deposit cabinets. It was paradise to people such as Korna and Rondosarn.

Floor to ceiling lockers, ceiling mounted droppable safes, floor-covered combination cases; Korna had never seen so many different safe configurations jammed into such a small place.

“For a place that’s easy to get in to,” he said, “it certainly has a lot of stuff.”

When he received no response he looked over at his compatriot. He saw the great eyes of his friend roaming over the different containers.

“Keep your mind on the job,” Korna said with a nudge.

“But look at it…”

“Rondo!” Korna surprised himself with his venomous snap. Rondosarn looked at him, his first expression one of shock, which slowly turned to slight annoyance.

“I was just saying, whilst we’re here…”

“That’s not the plan. Find the box belonging to Nemec Niern. I’ll get the bag.”

“Here it is,” Rondosarn hissed across the vault in Korna’s direction. He checked his chronometer and shook his head with consternation. “We’re running out of time.”

Korna quickstepped over to Rondosarn, carrying the bag with him.

“Is it large enough?”

“Oh, yeah, no problem.” Rondosarn reached up, grabbed the safety deposit box by its handles and pulled it down from the ceiling. Its hydraulic withdrawal system strained against the big alien’s pull and he gritted his teeth. “Hurry, Korna!”

Korna took several small cutting tools from his breast pocket and placed them inside the slot in the side of the box. He pushed them apart, making the slot bend slightly, and then inserted a long thin piece of plastic, like a slice of an identification card. There was a moment’s pause, interspersed with Rondosarn’s grunts of effort, and then the hydraulics relaxed and the box opened.

“Excellent,” Korna smiled and placed the tools back into his pocket. Then he reached down and began to take small white cube-shaped packets out of the large bag.

Rondosarn looked about the room sadly.

“I can’t believe we’re doing this,” he sighed. He reached in to the bag and grabbed some containers himself.

Korna started putting the small containers into the deposit box.

“I know, but it’ll be worth it in the long run, trust me.”

With another long sigh Rondosarn held up the white cube and stared into it. The credit chips inside jingled at his shake.

“How much are putting into Niern’s safety box, Korna?”

“About a quarter of a million credits, in total.”

Rondosarn shook his head in disbelief.

“And why are we doing this again?”

“You know why.”

“Remind me. Remind me why I’m standing here surrounded by millions of credits and I’m not supposed to touch it.”

Korna sighed himself, passing Rondosarn more of the credit-filled cubes.

“Because Nemec Niern’s business is worth several million. We plop these false chips in his account then set off the alarms and run for it. Law turns up, sees there’s been a break in, check each of the deposit boxes to make sure that everything’s where it should be so their clients don’t get upset. Bam. Suddenly, a quarter million counterfeit credits appear in Nemec Niern’s safety deposit box. He thinks his money is safe, being kept on Alorea whilst he’s working out of Chancai but, no, the authorities think he has an off-planet account to hide his counterfeit money. Goodbye Nemec Niern’s Maintenance Mayhem Showrooms. Then we step in as buyers, take the business and make a packet on the market. Got it? Or do I have to write it down for you with flow charts?”

“Can’t we just take some…?”

“No! We can’t risk being linked to this, and I’d rather make continuous money honestly than spend the next few months trying to find buyers and launderers and getting a bare fraction of what we stole in the first place.”

There was a pause. Rondosarn watched with exaggerated sadness as Korna sealed the box and allowed it to retract back into the ceiling.

He tutted loudly. “I don’t get it. We must be the only idiots in the galaxy who’re breaking into a bank to put money into it.”

Wrong Reasons

2001 short story by Jonathan Hicks

Five years after Episode IV – A New Hope

Histories – Taking two underused characters, Rondosarn once seen in Racers Part One-Shadows of the Past and the RPG character Korna Reygs, this tale shows the two teaming up to cause havoc with the business dealings of Nemec Niern, a character known mainly from his appearance in Jan Lomona and the Sirens of Amagad.

Cast of Characters

Korna Reygs

Rondosarn