Walking Through The Past

2001 short story by Jonathan Hicks

Thirty years after Episode IV – A New Hope

The Yapya Restaurant on Chancai was large and spacious, with great open areas where beings could mingle with drinks before being shown to their tables by hovering 'droids. It was open to both the streets of the huge city and the outside, which could be seen through a huge floor-to-ceiling window. The clouds were low as the evening closed in, below the window's height, making the mountain tops surrounding Chancai appear like jagged rocks protruding from a misty sea.

As Drate Galletti entered the restaurant he saw Jan Lomona immediately. The tall smuggler was sat quite straight in a seat by the window, looking out over the clouds with a gaze that showed his thoughts were pre-occupied. As Drate approached he saw the lines on the A-desandians face that, although they did show his age, did not reduce the youthfulness that shone in his eyes.

   "Mister Lomona?" Drate asked as he came up to the table. Jan turned as if surprised and looked up at him.

   "Goa..." he started with a shocked expression that was quickly replaced with a smile.  “Ah. You must be Drate." He stood up and offered his hand. Drate shook it with relish.

   "I am very pleased to meet you, sir," Drate said as he sat down.

Jan smiled.

   "Your father obviously taught you manners," he joked, waving over a serving 'bot at the same time. "You look like him, too."

Drate smiled too, finding himself suddenly relaxed in the smuggler's presence. He had been very nervous before this meeting.

   "Thank you for agreeing to see me, Mister Lomona."

   "There was a guy in the Rebellion who used to call me Mister Lomona," Jan said with a drawl. "Hated him. I'm Jan. And you're Drate. And I'm starving. I'm only on planet for a few hours so I hope you don't mind me ordering food?"

   "Not at all. I'll join you."

Jan ordered drinks and then leaned back in the chair, sipping t the beverage he already had.

   "So. You call me and want to meet me."

   "I'm sorry if I'm wasting any of your time..."

   "Hey," Jan shrugged. "I'm hardly going to turn down Goah's son am I? Nice to know you knew who I was that you'd seek me out."

   "My father talked of you often. You were good friends." As Drate spoke he reached into a breast pocket and pulled out a small disc the size of his palm. He placed it on the table, activated it, and a small hologram appeared. On the lightsnap were five figures. Jan smiled and gave a small laugh as he looked at the image.

   "Hah! That was taken just before Goah left for the Core Worlds. It was his last night on Amagad." He pointed at the figures in turn. "That's your Dad, as if you didn't know, that's me at the back - I'd fill the picture otherwise - the guy on the right is Romanoe, and the one on the left is Latti Tellex. The one with the bottle in his mouth is Garr Sintinecc." Jan suddenly lost his smile and shook his head. "Poor Garr. Where did you get this?"

Drate turned off the emitter and placed it back in his pocket.

   "I found it in my Dad's things. After he died."

To Jan the whole restaurant had gone quiet. He knew it was a trick of the moment as all about him had suddenly become background and he was just focusing on Drate. He pulled a deep breath.

   "How, um... how did he die?" he asked in a quiet voice.

   "He'd been ill for a long time. He'd got into transporting Tibanna gas from the P'ro dynasty and, well, some people just can't take the exposure. It was quiet for him."

Jan nodded.

   "I'm glad."

Drate frowned at him.

   "I meant I'm glad it was quiet. I'm sorry. I'm not very good at these kind of things."

   "I understand. I know that it must be strange for someone from the Setnin Sector to die, well, you know... quietly."

With a great effort Jan smiled.

   "Right. Someone once worked out the percentage chance about dying by violence here. What a weirdo."

Drate leaned forward, interlocking his fingers and clearing his throat.

   "Look, Jan, the truth is I'm not on-planet for long, either. I've asked to meet you because, well, I need some information."

   "Shoot."

With another clearing of his throat Drate took a deep breath.

   "I want you to tell me about Goah Galletti."

Jan frowned.

   "Goah Galletti?" he whispered.

   "The clone. The assassin. The one they call the Blood Drinker in the Ki-Ki Sector, the Shadow in the Brother Sector, the..."

   "Yeah, I know what they called him. Why do you want to know?"

Drate shrugged.

   "I've met my uncles, Brush and Boah, but they wouldn't talk about him. I wanted to meet all my family in the Setnin Sector..."

   "He's not your family," Jan said, a sudden darkness in his voice.

   "I just want to know about him. He may not have been born in the literal sense of the word but he was still a Galletti." Drate smiled. "Call it curiosity. Can you tell me?"

   "Don't ask me that question."

The sudden change of temperament shocked Drate somewhat but he simply sat back in his seat with an expression of impatience.

   "What is it with everyone? I ask about someone and they seal up. No entry, thank you, next question. He was just a man."

Jan leaned forward so quickly Drate thought he was going to shout at him.

   "Let me tell you about that `man’. He used to go out on jobs for Glann Cipple and be gone for weeks on end. We'd lay bets at Zythlies on what the body count would be. Latti joked once and placed a bet for one hundred plus. One hundred plus, dead. He won that night. Don't ask me what that thing was like. You really don't want to know."

   "I know what the problem is," Drate said.

Jan raised a questioning eyebrow.

   "You do?"

   "Yes. Everyone thinks that I'll be shocked and ashamed because he was a clone of my father and if the clone could act that way, then what does that say about my Dad? Jan, my father was the kindest man I ever knew. He was caring and loving, a little shady, maybe, but he was not evil. The clone was a creation. A thing. I know that. Please. Tell me."

Jan looked at Drate for a short while. Finally, he nodded assent.

   "Okay. Goah, the clone, was nasty. He wasn't cruel, he wasn't evil in the strictest sense of the word. He wasn't one to kill innocents to get his target or blow up public places to make a kill. He had a code and he stuck to it. But once he went after someone he was like a Ripperlizard with a cushion. He wouldn't let it go. He wouldn't sleep, he wouldn't talk to anyone, and he wouldn't accept aid. He would track that target down and kill. And that was what he did, Drate. He killed. It was all he was. All he knew. All he ever knew. It was why he existed. Imagine it - one of my best friends goes away. A little while later, he comes back. But it's not him. We don't know that it's not him. One day he's a smiling, drinking backslapping buddy and the next he's blowing away beings to keep his boss happy. He killed eight people in those first three days. Eight people. All the time I knew Goah I'd hardly seen him pull his pistol! And then what's this? Blaster bolts, explosions, deaths and everyone's thinking what the hell has happened to this guy? Sorry, Drate. I'm sorry that I still regarded him as a friend. I'm sorry I didn't realise sooner that it wasn't the real Goah Galletti."

There was a long pause. Drate was watching Jan intently, Jan was staring out at the clouds again.

   "I'd heard the stories," Drate said. "I just thought they were horror stories, you know, like exaggerated. Big bad killer stuff."

Jan jabbed his finger at the holo emitter in Drate's pocket.

   "That's the Goah I’m gonna remember. That's the Goah you should remember. Forget this 'who was my father's clone' line. It'll take you places you don't want to visit."

The serving 'droid swooped in and deposited several dishes on the table. Jan pulled another breath and smiled.

   "Now," he said as he sniffed at the aromas from the plates. "Let's talk about your father."

   'Why do you pursue me?'

   'I need to know.'

   'Know what?'

   'Who you were. What you were like.'

   'It does not matter. I am gone.'

   'But it does matter.'

   'Why?'

   'Because, either from a womb or from a vat, you're family.'

   'I have never known the bond of flesh. I care little for family. You should care little for me.'

   'I cannot leave it that way. I need to know.'

   'Why are you so curious?'

   'I'm a Galletti. We are a very curious family.'

   'Then walk my past. I cannot be held responsible for what you find.'

   'I am strong.'

   'I don't think so.'

Romanoe slammed the hydrospanner down on the workbench and grimaced. His face, pockmarked by age and toil, was downcast, touching on angry.

   "Damned by-pass," he grumbled in a deep voice. He coughed violently and looked up at the starship he was working on. "Joke! Get me the internal scanner, willya?" he shouted.

Drate looked at him and shook his head. He had asked the question - tell me about Goah Galletti - but the engineer was obviously ignoring the enquiry. He coughed, attracting Romanoe's attention once more.

   "What do you want to know about... him for?" Romanoe asked as he wiped his hands on an oily rag.

   "Three months ago I talked to Jan Lomona about the same thing," Drate answered. "He avoided the question, too."

   "I'm not surprised. Look, Goah is dead and gone and the sector is better off without him, okay? I don't want some kid digging up the past. I don't care whose son you are."

Romanoe had been friendly and talkative when Drate had first approached him. Once again, a mood had changed with the mention of the clone. Drate nodded and stepped forward, his hand touching a servo-unit thoughtfully.

   "Call it curiosity," Drate said quickly. He looked around the huge hangar, here on Cantarr Bi Romou, and sniffed the solvent air. "What can you tell me about him?"

   "I worked on his ship. I fitted it out with gadgets and weapons, secret little hiding places and stuff. I only ever accompanied him on one job, the Alorean escapade. I saw how he worked. Never touched his ship again. That's it."

   "Were you scared of him?" Drate suddenly wanted to know. He didn't know why he asked the question but he was sure that was the right way to go to find out more.

Romanoe huffed a smile.

   "Scared of him? Hell, yes! I was terrified! That's why I stopped working on his ship! One wrong fitting, one wrong modification - what would he have done to me? Rumour had it he would eat some of his targets."

Drate laughed, thinking that the engineer was making some sort of sordid joke, but when Romanoe looked up at him with narrowed eyes the laughter died away.

   "Look, I'm very busy and I'm short on time. Is there anything else you wanted?" Romanoe turned to walk back to the starship.

   "Who else can I talk to?" Drate asked quickly. Romanoe looked back over his shoulder.

   "I'm not sure anyone will want to talk to you about this, Drate," he murmured. "No-one was close to him. Well, except maybe..." As if the thought had somehow crept into his mind without permission Romanoe shook his head. "Forget it."

   "Who?"

   "I said forget it."

   "Romanoe, I want to find out things about my father's clone. If you don't tell me I'll find out anyway. I'm very resourceful."

With a slow smile Romanoe looked the young man up and down.

   "Just like your old man, eh? Look, go to Euphoria Station - it'll be over Cawbate soon - and look for this woman..." Romanoe pulled out a flimsy and started writing on it with a light stylus.

   "What kind of modifications did you do to the ship, Romanoe?" Drate asked as he took the flimsy.

   "The Phoenix? Weapons, mainly, but there were little hideaways under the main console."

Drate thought carefully. He had the clone Goah's vessel, salvaged for him by Pollyanna, his new co-pilot and friend, docked in a bay on the other side of the city. Maybe it would be worth checking it out.

Pollyanna frowned as Drate ducked under the console once more.

   "What are you looking for?" she said sharply.

   "Secret compartments. Hideaways. Romanoe said he did those kind of things when he used to modify the ship. Did you find anything when you re-fitted her?"

   "Nothing. I wasn't looking, at any rate."

There was the sound of banging and the odd oof from Drate as he slammed his hand on panels under the console.

With an exasperated sigh Pollyanna leaned against the cockpit hatch frame and shook her head.

   "What is it with you, Drate?"

   "What do you mean?" came the muffled reply from under the console.

   "What's with the obsession with the clone of your father?"

There was no answer. Drate continued his ministrations and there was a loud clang followed by his cry of pain.

   "It's not an obsession. I'm just curious."

   "From what you tell me no-one wants you to be curious. Can't you just leave it? I've got a good contract from the shipyards, parts and equipment to be shipped to Euphoria Station. We need some cash, Drate."

   "Euphoria Station? Great, we're going there next. Oh, hello..."

With a grunt of effort and the sound of sharply slapped metal Drate appeared from under the console. In his hand was a small black box. Pollyanna looked at it with suspicion.

   "What's that?"

   "I don't know."

Drate flicked the box open to reveal a small disc. He smiled as he took it from its cradle and held it up. He stood slowly, suddenly looking about the console for a disc reader.

   "I can see your not going to let this go," Pollyanna said with frustration as she snatched the disc from Drate's hand. Before he had chance to protest she had inserted it into a slot on the console and pressed several buttons. A monitor flickered into life and a scrolling list started to wind up the screen.

   "It's an inventory," Drate whispered. "Rifles, explosives, stun weapons, launchers, vehicles, armour, supplies... Holy freck, Polly, he had a secret cache on every major world in the Setnin Sector."

   "And in the surrounding sectors," Pollyanna pointed at other lists boxed out from the main one. "There's tens of thousands of credits worth of stuff here. It's worth a fortune." With smile she turned to Drate but the smile evaporated as se saw Drate's face - a small smile was on his lips and his eyes were narrowed.

   "He had equipment to hand no matter where he was," Drate was saying as if in awe. He sat down in the co-pilot's chair as he scanned the list.

Slightly disturbed by Drate's sudden change of mood, Pollyanna walked from the cockpit, but Drate never noticed her leave.

   'You go too far.'

   'It is another lead. I told you I would find out about you.'

   'Not her. Not her.'

   'She may know more.'

   'She knows nothing.'

   'We will see.'

Frans Latka turned from Drate and stared out at the starfield. Euphoria Station was turning slowly and at this time Cawbate could not be seen far below them. A bright star beamed brightly and Frans kept her expression clear as she watched it turn into an approaching ship.

   "You flew halfway across the Setnin Sector to ask me about a dead man," she said with a whisper. Her red hair was cut shorter than usual so that it hung just below her shoulders and her brow, lined with emotion, creased as she spoke.

   "Not a dead man," Drat said, leaning forward. "His body was never found."

   "He's dead!" Frans shouted. The closed office she utilised for her own business dealings was small but it still managed to create an echo. "Dead and gone. Romanoe called me, you know, warned me you were on your way. I told him then and I'm telling you now. I don't want to talk about him."

   "Were you close?" Drate persisted.

   "What the hell is it with you?" Frans shouted again. She leaned over the table with fury. "How close do you feel to a Clann Rat, kid? Because that's the emotional content of Goah Galletti! He was a killer and he used me to get to his prey!"

With deep breaths from the emotional exertion Frans dropped into her chair. She wiped away the hair that clung to her forehead and sighed.

   "I had been kidnapped by Torona Formoon," she raised her eyebrows at Drate who nodded in the affirmative.

   "Yes, I've heard of him. Big crime lord. Nasty."

   "Nasty doesn't cover it. He wanted me to be part of his collection of women and regarded me as a favourite. He tried to kill Goah to get to me; we were working together at the time. Goah came after me and rescued me. He cared for me and I thought I felt something for him... he was a lost soul, angry at the galaxy and tormented by Gods knows what. I wanted to care for him as he had cared for me, and, I don't know, I think maybe I wanted it to be more."

Drate was confused at Frans' sudden change of heart, at first refusal to impart any information but now compliance. He waited patiently.

   "But he knew that Formoon wanted me back," she snarled, her eyes suddenly becoming darker. "He couldn't find him and he knew that he'd come for me. So he kept me to hand for that very moment because Formoon had hurt him and he wanted to hurt him back. He got him, too. And then I was a distant memory." Her anger rose. "He betrayed me..." then she relaxed again. She seemed exhausted by the effort.

   "After the battle over Amagad, when Glann was deposed, it was rumoured that Goah was dead. I had to be sure. I think I hated him more than I hated Formoon because at least Formoon had made it plain he had intended to use me. So I searched. I hunted him down. I wanted to be sure he had died. Don't ask me why - I suppose I should have been pleased that he had killed Formoon for me, but... I needed to know.

   "I found his ship on Repusub; and a whole bunch of dead Imperials. I saw there what Goah was. What he did."

Frans eyes became darker and she leaned over the table. Drate backed away involuntarily.

   "What you've said about your father... he sounds like a wonderful man. Like a true friend. The clone Goah was the exact opposite. Do you know what I saw on Repusub? Bodies. Dozens of bodies. Torn apart by explosions, by blasters. Wrecked speeders, destroyed ships. Craters. Some of the troopers hadn't just been killed they'd been shot to pieces as if the man had enjoyed it. And that was Goah Galletti. He may have been wrestling with demons, may have had a tortured existence, may have been crazy or mad or unstable, but he did exactly what Glann had created him for. He took lives, Drate. He took lives as easily as we would draw breath. And I found his body, pieces of him scattered all over the place. So I took those pieces, built a pyre and burned him. And I cried for him. Because I was the only one who could."

Silence.

   "You found his body?"

More silence.

   "Yes. It was him."

Drate sighed as if a great burden had dropped from his back. He slumped in his seat and looked up at Frans, into her concerned, confused eyes. Concern at the tears that welled in Drate's eyes. Confused as to why they were there.

   "Then he is dead," Drate whispered. "Good. That has saved me a job."

   'So it ends.'

   'You are dead. There is no more need for me to hunt you'.

   'Are you glad?'

   'I am. My father's name will know no more stain. He is finally free of you.'

   'I am glad for that.'

   'You are?'

   'I am. Now I am dead, I can feel anything.'

Pollyanna frowned as Drate walked onto the Phoenix. His face was red and his eyes puffy but she did not enquire as to why.

   "How did it go?" she asked, trying to sound casual and slightly disinterested.

   "Fine. Let's take a list of all those secret caches the clone Goah had on the disc."

   "Why?" Pollyanna suddenly felt concerned.

   "So that we can sell it all and make a bundle. After they're gone, the name of the assassin will be wiped clean."

Pollyanna smiled and placed a hand on Drate's shoulder.

  "Are you okay?"

Drate allowed his tears to wander freely down his cheeks. His lips trembled as he took Pollyanna's hand in his own.

   "I can mourn my father now, Polly. He truly is dead."

'At least, in death, I have done a little good.'

Walking Through The Past

2001 short story by Jonathan Hicks

Thirty years after Episode IV – A New Hope

Histories – Written by Jonathan Hicks, this shows the son of the real Goah Galletti searching through the painful past life of his fathers clone.  Referencing many past Lightsabre stories and RPG games from the past two decades, young Drate finds that the legacy of his fathers clone, his dark side shadow, reaches deeper and is more invasive than he ever imagined.

Cast of Characters

Drate Galletti

Jan Lomona

Clone Goah Galletti

Romanoe

Joke

Pollyanna Chenk

Frans Latka