Tactical Withdrawal
2002 short story by Mark Newbold
and Paul Squire Thirty-eight
years after Episode IV – A New Hope Jan Lomona stood alone just beyond the
ornate and imposing courtyard of the Bank of Zelon, a grin of anticipation
etched deeply into his face, hands jammed deep into his pockets. In the distance he could hear violent
rumbles and blasts from the attacking Ki-Ki forces as they forged their way
deeper and deeper into the Chancai Trade Centre, but experience told him they
would have a long way to go before they got past the stubborn Setnin
resistance forces and up to Level 15, his current location. He didn’t turn as Ryath Centaur,
leader of the Iron Claws, made his way effortlessly across the plaza from the
Northside entrance, through shattered rubble and debris to stand by his side
in silence. Lomona had been expecting
his mercenary friend and son-in-law to arrive, and in turn Centaur expected
Lomona to be waiting. The two men glanced at each other, remembering a vow
they’d made decades before in wilder, less complicated times. Neither could resist a broad smile.
“You sure you want to do this?” asked Centaur, looking up at the
impressive cladding and stonework of Setnin’s foremost banking
institution. Jan opened his eyes wide
and sucked in a sharp breath.
“Of course. Who hasn’t dreamed
of breaking into the Bank of Zelon?
“Dreamed, yes, but this is the bank of banks. You know its reputation. Impregnable, impossible to break into, and
harder to break out of. It’s got
tighter security than any garrison I’ve ever seen.” Centaur shook his head as he remembered the
reports he’d seen around Zelon’s most prestigious
bank. Even Imperial Intelligence
hadn’t gleaned the details of the most secure bank in the Sector, if not the
galaxy. All he’d seen in his days as
Chancai’s garrison commander had been so much speculation and rumour. “You know we’ll probably end up dead?”
Jan took a long hard look around the deserted plaza, and thought about
all the carnage and mayhem behind them.
“There’ll never be a better time.”
“Agreed. Let’s do it” After a few moments they began to walk
towards the elaborate gates, still locked and secured despite the no doubt
hasty exit the bank’s workers would have made as they’d fled from the Ki-Ki’s
surprise attack on the city. The plaza behind them was practically
empty, cleared of all but a handful of confused droids, turning in circles,
deserted by their masters and abandoned by their programming. Jan watched them closely as he and Centaur
walked up to the main gates that separated the Bank of Zelon from the main
thoroughfare of the Financial District.
He expected some alarm to sound, perhaps a wailing of a siren or a
click of security guns, but there was nothing.
“Try the panel,” suggested Jan with a shrug. Ryath gave him a ‘that would be too easy’
look, but still outstretched his hand and pushed the control panel’s
admittance button. Nothing seemed to happen for a moment,
and then just as Ryath was raising a ‘told you so’ eyebrow at his
smuggler friend, there was a clunk as the main gates unlocked and swung
gracefully open. Jan Lomona turned his grin up a notch,
flipped a cockon into his mouth, and strode
purposefully through the still opening gates.
“You coming?” he shouted as a surprised Ryath Centaur shrugged, and
then followed his friend through and into the Bank of Zelon’s
main courtyard.
“I’ve got a bad feeling about this,” he muttered aloud, only half serious, and returned Lomona’s cocky grin. “Just keep that old Lomona sixth sense tuned
up.”
“Always bro’. Nothing’s gonna
catch us unawares.”
Electronic eyes watched as the two men
entered the Bank’s grounds and approached the imposing archway and ornate
doors of the main entrance. A complex
array of sensor devices detailed the men’s height, weight, physical
attributes and so forth that allowed the courtyard’s impressive collection of
repeating blasters to not just track the two targets, but calculate where
they could be moments before they were.
All this was fed into threat analysis scenarios and assured the Bank’s
computer that its two targets could be swiftly and efficiently neutralised. Power was diverted to the weapons, and
targeting systems locked on before the computer ran down its final checklist
before switching fire control authority over to the individual weapon
points…and then it stood down. The Bank’s records indicated that,
despite the absence of staff and customers, today was a normal working
day. It was still open for business
for another forty-five minutes.
“Welcome, gentle beings, to the Bank of Zelon – the mid rim’s most
prestigious Financial Institue...” babbled a soft
electronic voice as Jan and Ryath stepped through the gracefully opening main
doors and into the deserted lobby. Ryath’s blaster rifle stayed steady as
he cautiously swept his eyes across the open area, but Jan moved his hand
away from his holster, raised his collar and brushed passed Ryath and into
the foyer,
“No-one home,” commented the A-desandian, and he shot his friend one
of his cockiest grins. Ryath frowned, the concern etched all to clearly on his weathered face.
“As far as you know,” he added, a hint of
reticence apparent in his voice.
“You have a problem with this?” asked Jan stretching his arms wide at
the lack of people, droids or any sign of security, the relief on his face
shining brightly. Ryath frowned at
Lomona.
“So, we just stroll right in then?” Jan shrugged his shoulders, unsure as
to what Centaur was implying. Ryath
continued. “This is the most heavily
guarded and secure bank in the Mid-Rim, maybe the entire galaxy. And here we are, three hours after a Ki-Ki
attack and there’s not a soul in sight.” Jan almost laughed out loud as he
moved purposefully across the mosaic floor.
“And that’s a problem?” Jan leaned
over a massive entrance desk, and hit a key on its main keyboard. “Hey.
We’re here to rob the Bank of Zelon.”
He smiled again as a concealed door grooved into a wall slid smoothly
open. It almost looked like an
embossed pattern in the metalwork, and Centaur raised an eyebrow at Jan.
“It doesn’t get much bigger than this.” Centaur paused, years of combat,
patiently planned strategies and ambushes hardwired into his system, and
waited for alarms and security systems to sound. But as earlier, there was nothing. He followed Jan through the doorway, his
blaster rifle held low by his hip, finger ready at the trigger. He didn’t mind admitting he was
apprehensive, and despite the A-desandians apparent bravado he knew Jan well
enough to know that it was merely a façade and that he was equally nervous,
if not more so. Each man has his
way of coping with nerves. Mine is
caution, thought Ryath to himself.
Jan’s is humour. Bad humour
“The entry to the vaults is through here, passed the staff room,” motioned
Jan as Ryath looked at him incongruously.
The smuggler just shrugged, and Ryath knew there was no point pressing
his friend. How Lomona knew so much
would become apparent eventually. Centaur entered the room first, rifle
scanning the area like a hungry krayt, eager for a
target to nullify. Lomona followed, blaster held high, ready for action. The staff floor was tidy and orderly, but
in an eerie way. Almost as if the
workers of the most secure establishment in the Setnin Sector had simply been
spirited away by hands unseen, leaving their work unfinished. Cups of chav still steamed in their
self-heating mugs, flims lay on desks, cleaner droids scuttled between desks
and chairs. But no screens flickered,
no communication channels buzzed. The
Zelon Wave Exchange had been destroyed and local communications were
down. The Ki-Ki had blanketed the Lomona moved through the staff floor
towards the rear, and Centaur followed in silence, pushing chairs aside as he
cautiously tailed the free trader towards another door, this time larger and
more apparent. Jan waited for Ryath,
turning as he approached.
“Okay bro, this is it.” Jan took a deep breath, straightened his
shoulders and blew out a long breath.
Ryath watched Jan closely as he delved into his jean pocket and pulled
out his wallet. Opening it, he slid
out a piece of flim that had been deceptively folded a multitude of times and
spread it open on a nearby desk.
Centaur eyed the flim closely, not certain but reasonably sure of what
he was looking at.
“Jan,” he said slowly. “Is that
what I think it is?”
“Ry, you are looking at one of only four
copies known to exist of the floor plans to the security vault of the Bank of
Zelon.” A knowing looked passed between the men, and after a second or two
Ryath nodded. He knew that in Jan’s
own way, he was as much a professional as Centaur, and took a particular
pride in his own line of work. Jan continued to explain in hushed
tones as he smoothed the flim.
“One is owned by the original designer, a second is housed within the
vault itself. The third is with the
Bank of Zelon’s insurance agents on Coruscant and
this is the fourth one right here.” He
smiled as he gazed at the flim, the amazed stare of Centaur burning into the
side of his face. Jan shook his
head. “Don’t even ask, you wouldn’t
believe me if I told you. Let’s just
say it was a down payment on an agreement I made with somebody a while back.” Centaur shook his head, but was far
too used to his friend surprising him to take that amazement any
further. He leaned in and inspected
the flim.
“It looks like we’ll have our hands full. It says here that this door has a triple
redundant locking system. Every time
there is an unsuccessful attempt made to decode the door, a second and third
locking mechanism is activated.”
“And that’s not all,” interjected Jan as he too leaned in towards the
flim. “They’re set on a rotating
cycle, so you can never guess which lock will activate. And each lock has over seventy thousand
combinations.” Ryath leaned back and glared down at
Jan, the familiar cocky, teenage smile still evident on his six-decade-old
features.
“Pardon me for pointing this out to a gambling man such as yourself,
but those odds are a trifle rich, even for you.” He frowned and placed his rifle on the
desk. “How the hell do you expect us
to crack the lock?” Jan Lomona stood and faced the door,
all traces of humour suddenly flushed from his face.
“I don’t know. But we have to
try, we simply have too.” The W-2 Carrion Class Dropship slipped
into whisper mode and descended down the still smoking shaft of the Chancai
Trade Centre. Like an armoured bird of
prey it dropped and circled, rotating in a 360° arc as it scanned for possible threats. But none were forthcoming. The Ki-Ki victory had been complete
and devastating. Huge Killships, massive weapons platforms designed for
planetary attack, had swooped into the system and pummelled the surface. Ground assault had taken the city, aerial bombardment had shattered the trade centre
and laid waste to Fringe-Mall and The Carrion Class was amongst the
first vessels in the second assault wave on Chancai. The first wave had been huge and powerful -
hammer Chancai into submission, take their leader Ocern Gabe as a political
prisoner and claim the capital of the Setnin Sector as their own. The second wave was a much more focussed
and tactical insertion. Locate and
secure key strategic locations throughout the trade centre. Already the Setnin Defence Force
Headquarters had been claimed, although the majority of its file systems and
information had been rendered useless by a final act of sabotage by S.D.F
leader Tannis Rixx. The City Halls had
been taken, as had many major financial institutions. But this Carrion Class Dropship and its
team of twenty Ki-Ki warriors had the task of claiming the undisputed jewel
in the crown – the Bank of Zelon.
Physical location of Setnins wealth, the federal reserve of the
sector. And as the dropship reached
the access tunnel leading to the Bank’s private docking bays on Level 15,
that goal drew closer and closer.
“Ready?”
“No.”
“You think this will work?”
“Couldn’t make it any worse.”
“Right – like you’re a locksmith!” The final set of numbers was entered,
and Lomona tried the door. There was a
click, a pause in which both men didn’t even dare breath, and then…
“Tertiary locks now activated,” chimed a happy electronic voice.
“Great! Just frecking great,”
complained Lomona as he turned away from the giant cylindrical door in
disgust. “A simple triple redundant
locking system and we can’t even break through that.”
“Simple!?”
“Like we haven’t broken through worse,” spat the smuggler bitterly, then added with the hint of a smile. “Not that we’ve actually broken into any
banks before.” He shrugged, walked over to a water
dispenser and helped himself to a cup.
“Hell, I wouldn’t mind so much, but this is supposed to be the easy
part.” Ryath inclined his head in solemn
agreement. This was only the first of
eight sets of doors that, according to the flim Jan had conjured up, led to a
labyrinthine maze of corridors that would wind their way towards the main
vault, and the wealth of the Setnin Sector.
Of course there was a series of death traps and the inevitable phalanx
of weapons emplacements set to blast, burn, crush or
dissolve any would be bank robber out of existence. From the plans it looked liked the designer
had been particularly cunning, as some of the obstacles they’d face may just
let them through only to annihilate them in some fiendishly designed
dead-end.
“You’d be disappointed if it was too easy,” he commented dryly, but
Jan just arched his eyebrows.
“No,” he said quite deliberately.
“I wouldn’t.” The two men gave the solid, and so far impenetrable door a hard look, and then
Jan drew his blaster.
“Ah – freck it,” he growled and loosed off a volley of shots at the
locking mechanism, leaving it smouldering as droplets of molten metal ran
down to the floor. Centaur frowned, moved over to the
giant handles, and gingerly gave them a wrench. He stopped and looked at the smuggler in
surprise.
“I don’t believe it!” whispered Ryath.
“What!” exclaimed Lomona. “It’s open?”
“Course it’s not frellin’ open!” Ryath’s cold eyes bore into his friends,
and Lomona held his gaze before the two men smirked, and then simultaneously
cracked open wide grins.
“However,” added the mercenary as he took something out of his utility
holster, “We could use this?”
“You still carry that …?”
“Hey,” frowned Centaur. “I’m may be part of the command staff here,
but some of your precious Setnin buddies still don’t trust me –“
“What with you being a mercenary and all,” added Jan sarcastically.
“Let’s just say that they don’t like me carrying a blaster around the
more exclusive parts of Chancai.”
Jan looked pointedly at the Comp-Act assault blaster rifle resting on
a nearby desk and frowned at Centaur.
“I said they didn’t like it – not that I don’t have one!”
“Still,” snorted Jan, “haven’t seen you use that for a few
years.” He looked at the Lightsabre
held in the mercenary’s hands, and remembered the mission he and Centaur had
carried out for Glann Cipple that had ended with both men getting more than
they bargained for. The Lightsabre was
part of that story.
“If your blaster can singe this thing,” Ryath said slowly, “then
maybe…” Both men’s faces were illuminated by
the glow of the blade, as Centaur started to slowly carve through the vault
door. The dropship’s
repulsors set it quietly down in the eerily empty landing bay. Even before it’s
clawed landing gears had settled on the bay floor two squads of Ki-Ki troops
were on the ground and sprinting to the Bank’s secured rear doors. Electronic eyes watched impassively as
the soldiers set about re-wiring the doors to gain access to the main
building. After all, the Bank was
still trading for another ten minutes, and wouldn’t the Head of Security have
activated the defence systems if anything had been untoward about this visit? Sweating profusely from the heat of
the molten metal, Ryath Centaur stood back and deactivated his sabre. Even before he’d taken a sip from the cup
Jan had handed him, the smuggler had ducked through the doorway and
disappeared out of sight.
“Jan, wait!” rasped Centaur, all too aware of the dangers
awaiting them beyond. He moved to the doorway to follow Jan,
but all he heard was the sound of laughter.
Raucous, heavy laughter. Laughing
gas? He thought to himself, instantly realising the ludicrousness of the
thought. There was nothing on the
flim about gas – and surely the designers would have used nerve gas
anyway? The sight that greeted his eyes was
almost beyond belief. There was no short corridor; ending in
another elaborately locked door, no scatter lasers, no dead smuggler - no
anything… Except a simple boxed room, white
steel, twenty meters by twenty meters, stacked three meters high with pallets
loaded with credit boxes. Ryath’s
brain kicked into overdrive. There
must be half the wealth of the Setnin Sector here. Each of those boxes must hold hundreds of
millions of credits… And then reality struck home and for
the second time in as many minutes he was stunned speechless. They’d broken into the main vault of
the Bank of Zelon… His brain backtracked a few steps as
his jaw dropped. Now hold on a second… The flim? The reports? All those rumours? This is the most heavily
secured and guarded bank in the galaxy.
All we did was open one simple door!
What gives? Lomona was literally dancing around
the room, slapping walls and cases with his bare hands and singing an old
A-desandian traders song in such a tuneless fashion that Centaur considered
switching his rifle to stun just to end the pain. Jan grabbed Ryath in a huge hug, lifting
him off his feet, his singing still assaulting his ears. Ryath broke out of his shock for long
enough to persuade Jan to put him down and began looking around the vault in
amazement. Jan ended his pitiful dirge and dance
as Ryath flicked open a credit box as Lomona continued to chuckle.
“The sly little buggers. I
can’t believe this was all there was to it.
It’s the
“What is?” asked Ryath, still having trouble getting to grips with
their success.
“The security on this place.
All rumour and no substance.
All those stories of how impossible this place was to break in to, of the
fates of those who’ve tried… All of it, just one big smoke screen, and one
that conned the whole of the Sector.
Hell, don’t think even Glann had balls that big.” He chuckled to himself again, and stopped
short as another thought struck him.
“The insurance! They’d have
made a killing on the insurance rates too.” Jan shook his head in disbelief, and
gave the room an appraising once-over.
“I was expecting enough boxes to fill a space cruiser. Hell, I could get this lot on the Centaur lifted a credit coin out for
closer inspection. As he did so, his eyes opened wide in wonder.
“Jan, look at these denominations.”
Lomona took a coin and inspected it.
Centaur continued. “This one’s
a million Donalees.
That’s impossible.” Jan just grinned at him.
“Guess it makes it quicker for the Bank to count its wealth. Our wealth,” he added happily.
“But Donalees…?”
“Setnin currency. Stops
outsiders from trading in on our money.
And thanks to the Galactic Alliance propping up the Setnin economy,
the current exchange rate is one to one.
You’re holding a million credits there Ry.” Jan paused.
“Of course, now the Ki-Ki own Setnin, I guess this is
officially all theirs.”
“Kind of makes you feel bad about depriving them of their new found
fortune.”
“You know if I smile any harder my face is gonna fall off,” said
Lomona as he opened another box.
“Question is, how the stang do we get it all
out of here before the Ki-Ki arrive?” Ryath Centaur stared around the room,
the fulfilment of a personal desire warming him inside. But Jan’s words echoed through his
mind. Now the Ki-Ki own Setnin, I
guess this is officially all theirs.
“Through that?” he said, pointing out a floor hatch that logic
dictated must lead to a loading bay.
“It’s got a one way lock control, so one of us will have to stay here
till the room’s cleared.”
“As long as we’re long gone before the Ki-Ki arrive,”
began Jan, but was cut short by a faint electronic voice that sent a shiver
through him.
“Welcome, gentle beings, to the Bank of Zelon – the mid rim’s most
prestigious Financial Institute…” The two men stared at each other.
“Looks like we’ve just run out of time,” said Ryath. Eighteen Ki-Ki warriors entered the
main lobby, their purple armour balefully glowing in the emergency
lighting. They had formed into a
search pattern and moved carefully through the open area, senses alert for
any signs of danger. So far all they’d
come across were a handful of cleaning and serving droids, but this was a war
zone and they knew better than to assume no one was around. It didn’t take them long to see the
still open doorway that Jan had found in the lobby, and the squad leader
smiled to himself.
This may just be a simple sweep and clean op after all, he
thought. He motioned for his two widest
flanking men to go forward, leaving himself and his second-in-command at the
centre of the pack, whilst the other warriors spread out behind to the left
and right. If anyone comes through that
door they wouldn’t last two heartbeats. He cast another glance around the lobby
before signalling his men forward. Somewhere in the background a computer
voice warned ‘the bank will be closing in one minute. Will all customers kindly vacate the
premises’ but he paid it little heed.
There was a fortune here to secure, and he’d been entrusted by Command
to secure it. The obscure hatchway opened with a whoosh,
and Ryath Centaur gambolled out.
Before he’d finished his roll the two Ki-Ki soldiers lay dead at the
base of the ramp to the Carrion Class Dropship. Pausing for a second, the mercenary made
sure that no one else was around, and then his eyes returned to the
thirty-metre long Carrion Class. Ryath surveyed its lines and noted its
large cargo capacity. More than
enough to carry the vaults bounty, he thought with a twinge of
humour. He still found it crazy to
think that the wealth of the sector could be housed in a twenty-metre by
twenty-metre room. But then, who would
have guessed that the Bank of Zelon’s idea of a
red-hot security system was telling people that the Bank of Zelon had a
red-hot security system? And not much
more than that. He checked the docking bay and his
eyes fell on exactly what he was hoping to find, a large flatbed load
lifter. He didn’t know how much time
he and Jan had, but whatever they could extricate from the vault would be a
valuable haul indeed. He still hadn’t
calculated how many boxes were stacked up in the vault, or how many million credit
coins sat in each container, but it hurt just trying to figure it out, so he
stopped. Suffice it to say it was a
lot. Moving back to the hatch he saw Lomona
looking down at him from the vault.
“Well?”
“Looks like the Ki-Ki are going to give us a hand,” smiled
Centaur. “You ready with those boxes?”
“Am I?” exclaimed the smuggler with a broad grin, and hit the button
to bring the lift the short journey back up to the vault. Between them, the two men started to
shift the crates down to the docking bay, but the hair’s on the back of Jan’s
neck were starting to get prickly, and he knew trouble was just moments away. A few more seconds, he prayed as
he hauled yet another box over to the lift.
Just a few more seconds. The Bank’s computer watched
impassively as the seconds ticked away down to zero, before announcing that
the Bank was now closed for business.
It felt a certain pride in proclaiming that the Bank of Zelon was the
bank of banks, and thanking the traders for their custom. It was puzzled why there were still
non-staff members remaining in the main building, and counted down the
moments, waiting for the override from the Head of Security. The Head of Security never activated
the override command, and so, shortly after deciding what light music to play
to any of the Bank’s staff still on-site, the Computer passed fire control
authority over to the individual weapon points dotted throughout the
building. The Ki-Ki team moved silently through
the staff area. If anyone was still
here, thought the team leader, then this is where they’ll be. He shifted the weight of the blaster in his
hands and was about to signal two of his men forward when concealed panels
slide back and repeating blasters brought the war to the resplendent
corridors of the sector’s finest financial institute. It was a blood bath. Jan and Ryath heard the sounds of
blaster fire, and the screams, and doubled their efforts.
“Last one,” breathed Lomona, sweat making his forehead gleam.
“Well, c’mon then,” urged Centaur as he loaded the final box onto the
flatbed. “We don’t have…” he stopped
as the gunfire fell silent, and the two men exchanged worried looks.
“Hang on,” said Lomona with a flourish, and then disappeared from
sight.
“Jan,” growled Ryath as loudly as he dared, but it still took a few
very long seconds for his friend to reappear. The tall A-desandian hit the vault’s
floor panel, and jumped the shaft and rolled through the hatchway before it
closed behind him.
“What you hanging about for Ry?” It took mere moments for the two men
to steer the load lifter into the cargo area of the dropship. Jan killed the grav emitters and hopped off
as the flatbed lowered to the floor, then slapped the panel to close the ramp
as he and Ryath made their way through the large ship to the cockpit. Ryath seated himself behind Jan, the Ki-Ki
location for co-pilot and gunner, and fired the engines. The ship was still running hot and ready
for action and after a brief moment familiarising himself with the controls
Lomona pulled back on the sticks and lifted the heavy vessel into the air,
aware that she berthed a cargo far in excess of anything he had ever dare
dream carry. He swung the Carrion Class into the
tunnel that would lead to the eastern shaft, away from the massive central
shaft and the eyes of other Ki-Ki ships.
Holding until a Ki-Ki patrol vessel moved through their line of sight,
Lomona pushed the vessel forward and tucked into the shaft before another
vessel moved into view. Jan gunned the
smart engine, swiftly taking her down towards the lower levels. Centaur leaned forward and frowned.
“Aren’t we supposed to be leaving?
Why are you taking us down?” Lomona grinned and looked over his
shoulder.
“Two reasons. One, we can get
out through the Shipyards of Zelon and into the jungle.” He watched his speed as they hit a patch of
oily smoke, and denied the luxury of scanner sweeps while under a
transmissions block, carefully edged around the still hovering wreck of a
freighter, repulsors still activated.
“And two, I want to take the scenic route.” Ryath sat back and checked the view
out of the cockpit window, his ship scanners a flat line of red. As Jan swung the ship into the enormous bay
of the shipyard he could see in the distance Ki-Ki troops massing near the
base of the trade centre, just outside and shrouded by the shadow of the
enormous building. Unsure of what
Lomona planned to do he waited, and watched as the Carrion Class swooped low
over their heads, and to his amazement he looked on as in unison they saluted
the dropship as it powered away, low over the tree tops and down the
Mutumbarr Valley, around the Tuca Mountains and into clear country. The irony, thought Ryath as Jan
brought the ship up into the higher reaches of the atmosphere, the smoking
hulk of Chancai clearly visible from space, and into orbit.
“Anywhere you want to go?” enquired Lomona as he put some distance
between them and Zelon. Ryath thought for a moment, unsure of
where they could go with a hold full of more money than he’d ever dreamed of
possessing, especially now that Setnin had fallen to the Ki-Ki. No, he corrected himself, there may
be no Setnin Council on Benesk, but there was still a Setnin council of
sorts. “Tannis Rixx gave me orders to
assemble the Iron Claws at Histai.
Mando Kerreet’s still there. Maybe Rixx had
time to tell others to fall back there too.” He didn’t sound convincing, and he
could see that Jan’s reflection on the cockpit window showed his friend
wasn’t convinced either.
“Hey Lomona,” he said after a few more minutes of silence. “You do realise that we’ve actually robbed
the Bank of Zelon…and gotten away with the money.” This time the smuggler smiled a broad
grin.
“When you and me work together, the whole galaxy’d
better watch out.” There was another moment’s silence,
and the Ryath spoke again.
“What took you so long in the vault?”
“Just paying my respects, Ry. Nothing much.” The Ki-Ki captain watched impassively
as the last body was carried away from the bank vault, and looked around at
the damage caused by his bitter fight against the bank’s defence system. They’d managed to stop those damned
repeating blasters popping up, but only by using gunships to blow half the
building up, and its computer with it. He cursed to himself. They’d never know what happened here now,
but that wouldn’t stop his superiors looking for a scapegoat.
“Find anything at all?” he growled at his sergeant.
“Just this, sir.” The Ki-Ki captain frowned, as the
sergeant dropped a small metallic disk in his hand.
“A five cred coin,” he whispered. “All this for a handful of credits.” Tactical Withdrawal
2002 short story by Mark Newbold
and Paul Squire Thirty-eight
years after Episode IV – A New Hope Histories – A story that has been talked about since the NHP audio days of 1986, and right through the RPG
sessions of the late 80’s/early 90’s, Tactical Withdrawal is the result of a phone conversation between Paul and Mark, wondering
what could possibly come after the huge events of Chancai
Falls.
Both being on the same story wavelength, Mark drafted a first run
through the story and Paul then did his pass.
Faithful to both the New Underworld Age plots, and to the
stories that precede it, this is also a tip of the hat to the many characters
and stories that had previously mentioned robbing the Bank of Zelon. Cast
of Characters Ryath
Centaur Jan
Lomona |