The Return

2002 short story by Louis Turfrey

Thirty-eight years after Episode IV – A New Hope

My target runs hard, but I activate the jetpack and I’m with him in a second. He swings his blaster upon me and I dodge to the side. Sloppy work on my part. The blast hits the side plate on the armour and knocks me over. I roll and come up on one knee, there is a clicking sound and I leap straight up as the poison quills shoot in my direction. One catches the unshielded part of my hand. Damn. I can feel the poison slowly creeping through my system and I have trouble forcing my heart rate to slow.

I land and collapse onto both knees, my arms dropping to my sides. My quarry moves towards me and he pushes me onto my back. I am powerless to stop him. The poison is racing its way through my system, paralysing all but my most basic of functions. He stands over me, the spines on his arms retracting back into their sockets. A mutant, possibly a clone. I laugh inwardly at my eagerness to complete this, my first job in the armour, my armour. My armour through three generations, for so long it seems impossible. I feel the memories implanted in me start to integrate more fully, I am losing what I was and becoming something newer, something greater than the whole. I reflect on the damage that this individual might do to my reputation, if he survives, if he talks.

“So, you are the great bounty hunter. You must be getting desperate to take up the old business again. Too slow, too old. I’d heard you were dead. In the old days you would never have been caught by my spines, and most certainly would never have made that error on landing. I’m gonna leave you here and call the medics. Oh boy, this is gonna be a story to tell the grand children.”

He walks away, and I feel the tension building inside.

He thinks I am loosing my edge; I can’t afford that information to be spread around. I use my neural link to pull up the file on my visor display. Dead or alive it says, I take some comfort from that. Next I call up the database on the possible neuron-agent that is embedded in the toxins he uses. He is walking around the corner; I patch my helmet into the security network at the spaceport, bypassing the usual pleasantries. I lock the docking bay doors. No way out for him now. The database shows me the possible antidotes, I get the helmet to administer them all, direct injection to my brain. The pain is momentary agony, and then I start to get the feeling back in my legs.

I hear him banging on the doors. A useless gesture. My strength is returning, but I wait until I am sure. His footsteps are getting nearer, he is swearing in his own language. Good, he will be off guard. He stands at the corner, looking at me as I lie on the floor. He shakes his head and pulls out a COM link, I am about to jam it when I realise my mistake. Let his compatriots come, they will all have bounties. He laughs and I turn up the gain on my helmet. I am almost at one hundred percent capacity.

“Yeah, he’s on the floor in front of me. Good, see you in five and make sure its not any longer. This guy gives me the creeps.”

I wait for him to close the communication before activating my armour again. As he looks at his belt, to place the communicator back on it, I make my move.

My boot hits him full in the chest, and he is slammed against the wall behind him. He slashes around and the spines eject towards me again. I am over them all in a millisecond and firing at him with the stun net. It ejects out of its holder and envelops him. I should have done this to start with; instead I tried to be flashy. As it wraps him up, I activate the stun field and he struggles before collapsing.

“Where am I?” I turn the light full into his face, the room is blacked out, and he can only see the light. He struggles with his bonds, a useless gesture.

“Your friends will be along in two minutes. You have until then to give me the location of Gamma. If you don’t tell, I don’t let you live.”

I monitor his heartbeat; he is not scared, only angry.

“I won’t tell you a thing old man. Nothing you can do to me will make me betray the boss.”

I see the determination in his eyes. I raise the light enough for him to see me. I remove my helmet. He stares, his face goes white, but he holds his nerve. I take my glove off. The red area where the quill hit me is fading; I make a note to modify the gloves. I hit him hard, his head snaps back and blood appears around his mouth. I feel no emotion at this act, my father would have felt some distaste, but I feel nothing.

“You have thirty seconds.” I place my glove back on and replace my helmet. He sits motionless, unwavering. I nod, take out my blaster and set it to kill.

“Ten seconds.” He faces me, straightens as much as he can and juts his chin out.

“Never. Kill me.”

He knows I can’t let him live, he’s seen my face.

So I do.

I hear the door to the docking area start to cycle. Three men enter, blasters in their hands. They are wary. I flick the button that will raise the door to the storage bay.

They see their companion first; one of them raises his blaster. The other swears. A Rodian a humanoid and a Barabel, good mix. I watch from the shadows, searching the bounty database for this planet. All three beings provide a match. I walk forward out of the shadows.

The Rodian fires first, wide. I take him down with one shot. Next the humanoid starts opening fire; I move out of the way of the blaster bolts and hit him with a long-range tranquilliser dart. The Barabel rushes forward, arms open wide. I leap up, and over, coming down behind him. His momentum carries him into the steel wall. There is a clanging noise and he is on the ground. I stun him, several times just to make sure. Then I make the call.

“Guild of Bounty Hunters.” The voice is computerised, but good.

“Put me through to Aaron Ra, section 357, Mid-Rim.”

There is a brief pause, then a human voice.

“Yes who is this?” He sounds old, but then he is ninety. I reply easily, memories coming to the fore.

“Hello Aaron, remember me?”

There is a pause at the other end of the line, then a gasp as he gets the ident off of the voice security analyser.

“Ranth, is that you?”

I pause for effect.

“Yes Aaron, its me. I’m back in business.”

The Return

2002 short story by Louis Turfrey

Thirty-eight years after Episode IV – A New Hope

Histories - This story describes the first brief mission of Tar Ranth, the genetically cloned son of Tarr Ranth. Here we see just how similar the styles are between Father and Son, and what the Son will do to maintain his fathers reputation.

Cast of Characters

Tar Ranth