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Centennial 2000 story by Jonathan Hicks,
Mark Newbold, Paul Squire and Louis Turfrey Three years after Episode IV – A New Hope Tarr Ranth It’s quiet. Too quiet. I analyse this
thought. Why am I so nervous? My armour. It’s on Jans’ ship. I feel naked without
it, even though I’m wearing the thoracic armour under my tunic. It gives me a
slightly overweight appearance, which melds with my disguise as an old space
cowboy. Only my weapons give my potential away. I hear footsteps
approaching and two individuals appear around the corner to my right. I still
have that nagging feeling that I’m being watched. I scan the buildings around
me, my senses alert to anything out of the ordinary. They’re less than
three meters away from me now and they both look nervous. Good. That’ll make
them easier to herd should there be trouble. Why did I take this
job on? Morality? Do I believe in the Rebellion? Hardly. I simply prefer to
support the underdog, until such a time as he gets in my way. I wonder if my
attitude will ever change. Time will tell. I nod towards the
two men, who look at me dubiously. They don’t recognise me under all this
make-up. Good. They hired a man in a suit, no names, just reputation and
recommendation. I like that sort of deal. No one to chase if things go wrong.
“Gentlemen, if you’ll walk this way, I
have arranged a quick entry on to the ship.” The one called Sheu looks like
he’s about to bolt. I signal for Jan on our prearranged frequency. There is a
brief beep of response as the hangar doors are unlocked and then I wait. The rain of shots
comes in high and wide, I push my charges back against the door of the
hanger, wedging them in to the corner by the control panel and placing my
body between them and their assailants. “Get as low as you can without exposing
yourselves!” I yell, as I launch myself at a nearby speeder and start to
return fire. The shots are coming from the top of a four-story building
nearby. I reach around my back and bring out a small blaster rocket, attach
it to the mount on the front of my rifle and aim it at the building. I hear
the creak of the doors as they start to open and Jan is shouting at my
charges. My concentration is on the roof only, and I fire the blaster. The
rocket arches up and just falls past its intended targets. There is a small
explosion and two men fly over the top of the building. They land with a
sickening thud on the ground below. As I back off
towards the hanger, laying down covering fire, the two remaining shooters
open fire again. The doors begin to close as I duck back in to the hanger,
just in time to see a third series of blasts head towards the closing doors.
I curse to myself, desperately trying to twist myself around to block the
blaster fire with my thoracic armour. Too late. There is a cry from
somebody behind me and a curse from Jan. The doors close. I run towards the
two men. The one called Sheu is lying
on the ground. As I approach Hevell, the ones the Rebels really want, is whispering to Sheu. “I’ll not forget this. I owe you.” Jan and I help the
injured man on to the Berone Sunrise and within a
couple of minutes we are airborne. I throw a medpac
at the one called Hevell and yell at him to apply it, all the while running
for the cockpit. The ship shudders
under the impact of blaster fire. I look at the scopes as I run into the
cockpit and notice that Imperial TIE fighters are chasing us. “What, no trademark spin?”
Jan looks at me and
grins. “Don’t want them recognising me.” I start
to input the coordinates for the hyperspace jump with the assistance of
Lomona’s droid, whilst Jan dodges the blasts and the fighters. Within moments
we are scooting into hyperspace. Jan Lomona I sometimes think
that if I ever get more than a month away from Chancai I’ll develop some
weird disease that will drag me back.
This place gets more like home every day. Take today for
instance. I’ve arranged to meet up
with Tarr Ranth, a bounty hunter I’ve worked with a few times before, to
ferry some guys’ off-planet. No names,
no questions, just like they always prefer.
And being the sensitive, tactful guy that I am I ask
no questions. Well, just a couple
perhaps. How much and when? I could see Ranth
prowling outside the Sunrise, masked by some strange
disguise that made him look less like a man and more like a freak. We’d arranged a frequency to keep contact
on, just in case the situation went belly up and we had to bail quickly. And in a city like Chancai that was more than
a distinct possibility. Ranth was a
wily campaigner. He’d seen enough of the
galaxy to know the dangers and how to avoid them. And even though he’d left his powerful
Mandalorian armour onboard my ship he was still well protected. The guy was a weapon in himself. Still, the thought
of blasting off and selling the armour had crossed my mind on more than one
occasion. Ranth turned back
to the cockpit and nodded as he exited the hangar. I saluted and turned back into the ship,
the comm active, waiting for his signal to prepare
for a swift takeoff. I always kept the
Sunrise in a constant state of readiness and
Aurran my droid was always on hand to warm her up for me in an
emergency. Neither
the ship or my old droid had let me down. And I had the feeling as the hairs on the
back of my neck bristled that I’d need that readiness today. Our prearranged
frequency buzzes as Ranth signals me to prepare the Sunrise. I respond with a single beep
and auto-unlock the hangar doors as I motion to Aurran to warm her up and
signal the Portmaster that we need clearance for takeoff. Then I heard the
blaster fire. A flurry of shots just
outside the doors. I can just make out
Ranth yelling at our passengers to take cover and I decide, against my better
judgement, to get out there and check out what’s happening. I grab Aurran by the shoulder. “Get
her warmed and ready to go. We’ve got
a live one here.” “Consider it done Master Jan.” He replied in his usual flat tone as I
sprinted down the ramp and towards the heavy doors. The blaster fire wasn’t getting any less
furious and I opened the doors and poked my head outside. The two guys were
packed into the doorway and I yelled at them to follow me but the blaster
fire was deafening and they couldn’t make out what I was saying. Then I saw two of the attackers come
flying off the roof and crunch into the ground. Ranth was as good as his reputation. Ranth had taken a position behind a nearby
speeder and was laying down covering fire as the doors began to slowly close. I paused, aimed with my blaster and
prepared to join Ranth in a defensive barrage as he moved back to the doors
when he twisted around. I didn’t
register what he was trying to do until the larger of the two men threw himself in front of the other and took the blaster bolt
aimed at the smaller first man. I
could only guess that it was the instinctive action of a bodyguard and I
cursed in ancient A-desandian as he cried out and the doors finally
closed. The smaller man leaned in to
his fallen bodyguard and whispered to him. “I’ll not forget this. I owe you.” “Come on guys.” I said.
“This is no time to get all mushy, we’ve got
a freighter to catch.” I hoisted the
injured man to his feet and threw his arm across my shoulders as Ranth took
the other arm. Aurran had the ship hot
and ready to go and by the time we’d climbed the ramp she was hovering above
the ground, ready to exit. I slammed
into the cockpit seat and powered her up to maximum, dodging through the
swarms of traffic that always filled the exit and entry points of Chancai, no
matter what the time. Lucky I was such an
expert on the place. I took the portside
lane of the tunnel where the larger bulk transports regularly drifted
down. In my more manoeuvrable stock
heavy I was able to avoid these ships and edge towards our escape, and the
credits that waited. I could hear
Ranth throw a med pack at the uninjured man and join me in the cockpit. I glanced down at the display as we finally
blasted out of the traffic tunnel and into open skies. Dammit, we’d got company. “We’ve got company.” I said as we took the first hit from a
batch of TIE fighters that had been alerted to my classic but risky piloting
skills. Ranth surveyed the scopes and
checked visually. “What, no trademark spin?” I grinned and
turned to him as my mind thought of a million reasons why I hadn’t spun the
ship. “Don’t want them recognising me.” Ranth moved to the
Astrogation panel and with Aurran’s help inputted the co-ordinates that would
safely get us away from Chancai and into hyperspace. It took few brief minutes of dodging and
twisting but we finally make it into the edges of the atmosphere and soon we
were clear of the gravity well and able to jump. With a final twist I pulled back the lever
and streaked for safety. Chancai. That place is gonna be the death of me… Goah
Galletti This is not my
usual method. Watching? Observing? I kill. I do not stalk. I fight. I do not
hide. Why I am watching
the two men walking slowly across the road to the hangar bay entrance and not
actively taking part in their extraction or execution is unknown to me. I
know that it is Jan Lomona's ship in the hangar. I also know that the men
have hired a gunman to help them get off-planet in case things go awry. Not
much happens in the Setnin Sector without Glann's knowledge. The hired gunman is
watching the street and I know he is wary, expecting trouble. There are thick
crowds on Chancai, celebrating the centennial of the founding of the official
Setnin Council, and many unknown faces walk the streets. It makes all us
professionals nervous. A public relations stunt has bought unwanted new blood
into the sector, hoping to make names for themselves,
and the competition is fierce. The sector is infamous, but actually facing
that infamy can be deadly, as many of these new arrivals would find. Even though I zoom
in with my rifle scope I do not recognise him which is perplexing. I know all
faces and names of 'undesirables' in case I have to kill them. He looks about
nervously as if my scrutiny has alerted him but I continue to watch. The men approach
and he nods to them, saying a few words and motioning to the hangar. The men
appear nervous as the gunman activates a communicator the hangar doors
unlock. The sudden blaze of
laser fire is surprising but not unexpected. The gunman pushes the arrivals
into the corner by the hangar as I sweep my sight up to see where the shots
are coming from. Four men in a four-storey building across the street, an
excellent vantage point, firing from an elevated position on exposed targets. I know two of them.
Two new Imperial Security Bureau agents made known to Glann by his contact on
Chancai, two of the new faces I speak of in the Setnin Sector. Their fire is
erratic, their first chance at an ambush ruined by their incompetence. They
were investigators and fought their wars with datapads and snarls. They
probably hadn't used a blaster since the academy. My first instinct is to
fire, squeezing the trigger of my pulse blaster but then relaxing as I
remember my orders. Watch. Observe. As I hear the
hangar doors start to open I lower my scope and watch the action without the
need for visual aid. The gunman has produced a rifle with a projectile
attachment as he takes cover behind a speeder and he fires it into the
building with remarkable accuracy. Two men, the ISB agents, are flung from the
building and to the street from the explosion and the other two take their
place. They have met infamy. They have paid the price for their ineptness. Then there is a cry
from the hangar as one of the men is hit - but I do not see how the blaster
shot could have come from the ISB position. He is covered by the door, out of
sight of the ISB vantage point, and I immediately assume there is another
shooter somewhere. I scan the area but see nothing. The hangar doors
are closed, now, and I hear the Berone Sunrise bring
her engines to full power. The ISB agents are shouting down their comlinks and I aim again at their heads. Once again my
orders seep into my brain. Watch. Observe. Doing this I see
another figure. He is armoured and effectively keeping out of sight of the
ISB agents, looking directly at me as he recedes into the darkness and
disappears from view. Ryath Centaur, if I'm not mistaken. Was he the other
shooter or had I miscalculated the angle? Interesting. I know he has seen
me. Unfortunate. My standard procedure is that if I am seen I kill all
non-innocent activists. But I am here to watch. Observe. It's time to report
to Glann. I do not know why he wanted this altercation observed but I obey, I
do not question. He knew that he was taking a risk, asking me not to get
involved. He threatened me with reduced pay if I interfered. I think of my
orders again as I watch the ISB agents begin to pack their equipment so they
can make a quick exit. With a shrug I lower my rifle and take aim at their
heads. What the freck. They're Imperial scum. Glann can bill me. Ryath
Centaur The warm rush of
impatience courses through my veins as I see them. Four men, all human. All dressed the same, too. The holdalls don’t match the jackets, but
then I’d never been impressed with the initiative of the Imperial Security
Bureau. Seems their MO hadn’t changed
since I’d left the Emperor’s service either. The urge to take
them out is palpable, and I feel my grip tighten on my rifle, but I’ve other
business here. A promise to keep, and my blood boils again - my hatred threatening to
take control. The ISB wasn’t here
by accident – seems my source was a little too prolific with his information,
but that’s no surprise. If he’d sought
me out to be a pawn in his plans, then he’d be using others too. But the ISB agents are a delay I can ill
afford; my window of opportunity is too small. I take a chance and
step into the bustle of the street. No one seems to take too much notice of
me. Just one more bounty hunter, they
reckon; a common enough sight in the Setnin Sector, even at its heart. Chancai and
Zelon. One the city, the other its
planet, but I’d heard people confuse the two too often for me not to realise
that the life’s blood of the Sector runs through this place. Everything runs
through it; even my prey. The crowds jostle
me as I move across the street.
Everyone’s in a good mood; ready for the celebrations. The splash of colours, the heady vapours, a
multitude of sounds from the strange assortment of species pouring in from
the ‘port, all conspire to set my nerves on edge. Xenophobia was part of my training, and
even now, seeing all these lesser creatures, turns my stomach. I catch myself at
the thought. Before…before making my
promise, I’d thought differently about a great many things. I’d assumed my experiences over the last
few years would have changed me, but maybe I’ve changed even less than the
ISB? The shadows of the
alley greet me like an old friend, and I wrap the darkness about me as I
carefully pick my way back towards the killing ground. At the sound of the
first shot I pick up my pace, raging ripping through my caution, the bitter taste of fear on my tongue. If I’m too late… Blaster fire spits
from the fourth floor of a trading company’s office, tearing up the back
street and gouging junks out of the sturdy doors of the hanger beyond. Imperial agents after my target, and using
the vantage point I’d chosen…? The
irony fails to impress me – though the missile one of the targets fires into
their midst brings a brief smile to my face. The lull lasts just
a heartbeat, but it’s enough for the ‘missile man’ to hustle the two others
through the hanger doors and towards whatever smuggler ship is waiting to run
the gauntlet of Chancai’s shipping lanes.
That it would be practically suicide to fly through the tunnel with
all the traffic visiting the city for the celebrations was little
conciliation. By my Emperor’s Oath,
I’d see that scum dead by my hands and by no other’s, but time was running
out. And that’s when he
saw me. I stared into those
fear filled eyes and saw the recognition in them. He knew I was after
him, had seen my image before. I was
closer now, but close enough…? The hanger doors
were cycling shut, threatening to hide my prey as I brought my rifle up, but
there was time for one shot, and my fingers caressed the trigger of my
blaster. He saw it coming,
he couldn’t tear his eyes away, and yet he had the survival instincts of a Womp rat. A sudden
change of direction, a desperate move to interject his companion between him
and me; let someone else take the fall. But he wasn’t fast
enough. The shot caught him
across the face, sent him tumbling away, but I spat a curse. A glancing blow, nothing more, but it was
still good enough to mark him. A scarred
man was easier to track, and I’d hunt Sheu down. Wherever he runs, whomever he hides behind,
I’d find him again. The two remaining
ISB agents disappear from sight.
There’ll be a detachment of troops here soon, and questions
asked. No one likes the
ISB. The flicker of a
shadow within a shadow catches my attention, and a shiver runs down my
spine. Goah Galletti, assassin for
Setnin’s biggest boss, watching.
Questions fill my mind, but they’re irrelevant. Neither of us moves for a heartbeat, and then
I turn to go. A second later and two
short shots punctuate the back street, leaving only questions behind for the
authorities to ponder over. I reaffirm my
promise to my dead brother as I head back towards my ship, and make another
to Sheu Ho-Travi. “Blood demands
blood. I’ll not forget this. I owe you.”
Centennial 2000 story by Jonathan Hicks,
Mark Newbold, Paul Squire and Louis Turfrey Three years after Episode IV – A New Hope Histories – The 100th story to appear on Star
Wars – Lightsabre and the first to be co-written by the four
participating members. Set just after
the events of Jan Lomona and the Sirens of Amagad, this shows the
sectors four prime operators – Jan
Lomona, Goah Galletti, Ryath Centaur and Tarr Ranth all working on the same mission but from
different angles. Also noteworthy is
the fact that this is the first story to be written by Mark Newbold and
Jonathan Hicks since the NHP
stories of the 80’s/early 90’s. Cast of Characters Goah Galletti Jan Lomona Ryath Centaur Tarr Ranth Aurran Sheu Ho-Travi Hevell Doreesh |