PART THREE

The mountain passes were dark and dangerous to fly down at high speeds, but Gern didn’t care. The skiff’s lights illuminated most of the ground in front of him, but the speed he was travelling was still too fast. A rocky outcrop could still come out of the shadows and destroy the craft. He turned to face the pilot and the few remaining Gern’s Gunnas who had managed to escape.

Anzai Karoo, He thought, I’ll see you dead for this. You’ve stolen my name and killed my men. If you were here now, I’d...

His thoughts were interrupted suddenly as a bright green Blaster shot screamed past the skiff and destroyed part of the canyon wall. The pilot shouted something unintelligible as he started swaying the craft from side to side as more shots gouged out great holes in the rock around them.

Anzai let the vehicle Blaster cool for a few seconds before firing again, annoyed with himself that he had not been more accurate. Latti had instructed him to aim for the huge fan-like steering vanes at the back of the craft, so that there was more chance of the skiff slowing instead of crashing. If all aboard were killed it would ruin Anzai’s chance of finding out who had put a bounty contract on him.

The two skiffs screamed down the canyon, each pilot trying to watch the other vehicle while simultaneously watching for natural hazards. Gern’s men held onto the railing as the bucking craft threatened to throw them overboard. They drew weapons and took inaccurate shots at the pursuing skiff.

Anzai fired again, but as he did so the gunner on Gern’s skiff fired also. Latti swept the skiff to one side to avoid the shot, ruining Anzai’s aim. The other gunner laid down a stream of fire, and Latti dropped back as one of the shots disintegrated part of the nose railing.

   “That guy’s good!” Latti called over the screaming wind, “I’ll have to drop back!”

   “Go down!” Anzai called back as he fired again. “Try to get underneath them!”

More Blaster fire narrowly missed their vehicle as Latti lost height. After a few seconds, they were just below the rear of the leading skiff and out of sight of their gunner. Anzai took aim at the underside and fired. His shots blew off panels and components, and the left steering vane burst into flames. The smoke from his damage billowed out, causing Latti momentary blindness...

The exact moment a rocky outcrop came flying out of the shadows and slammed into the underside of their skiff, doing more damage than the gunner on Gern’s craft could ever have dreamed of. Latti’s controls burst into sparks, and he held the steering levers at arm’s length, trying to keep his face out of the miniature explosions. The deck heaved.

Gern’s skiff had lost speed from Anzai’s Blaster hits, and the two smoking vehicles came almost side by side.

Latti shouted.

   “I can’t hold her! We have to get off!”

   “Get closer to the skiff!” Anzai cried, trying to keep the heads of the aliens down with rapid fire from the Blaster. “Let’s jump for it!”

Latti saw his plan, and his eyes widened in shock.

   “You have got to be jokin’!”

   “We’ll discuss the punchline later!” Anzai cried with a grin, and, pulling the heavy Blaster pistol from his belt, he leapt the gap between the skiffs with a yell. He sailed the gap and landed in a heap, rolling over the shaking deck. He landed so badly his Blaster flew from his hand and over the side into the darkness.

The gunner on the front of the skiff spun the gun around with a malicious grin, aiming at Anzai and pressing the firing stud. Anzai dived to one side with the momentum of the swaying skiff, and the shots went wide. Behind him, the killers who had come down from the pilot’s deck to deal with Anzai screamed as the inaccurate shots struck them, sending them sprawling on the deck or screaming over the edge of the railing. The gunner stopped firing with a look of profound shock on his face.

Latti leapt the gap as he tried to keep the failing skiff level, hoping that the craft would not spin out of control and plough into the skiff he was boarding. He landed better than Anzai did, bowling over a gunman as he struck the deck.

Their rapidly diving skiff dropped out of sight, and a huge teeth-jarring explosion lit up the twilight. The vehicle rolled and bounced along the canyon floor, blazing brightly, scattering a million tiny shards all over the rocks.

Latti got up quickly and punched the gunman in the face, knocking him to the deck. The alien was much stronger than he appeared, and he quickly recovered from the blow and struck back, an attack, which Latti parried, with his elbow.

   “Stop firing, you fool!” Gern bawled at the gunner at the front of the skiff. “You’ll kill us all! Get down here!”

Anzai crouched low as a huge pink alien with a trio of eyes and a snout for a mouth took a swing at him with a force pike. The pike was set to full power, and it buzzed through the air, cutting into the deck. As the alien overreached, Anzai stood and slammed it in the side of the head with the back of his hand. The blow was weak, and the three-eyed alien struck out with the butt of the pike, catching him in the right shoulder. A small blade in the end pierced Anzai’s skin, and he howled in pain.

Latti was wrestling with his assailant, trying to force him over the edge. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Gern drawing his sword from its sheath and start advancing on him. The skiff pilot had managed better control over the craft, and the deck stopped swaying.

The whole scene was suddenly lit up as a starship came screaming down from overhead. All the passengers of the skiff who were not engaged in combat looked up as a squat, ugly nosed ship came bearing down on them. Gern smiled savagely as the boarding ramp opened while the ship came down to parallel the skiff’s course. It was his Rodian friend, Obruk.

The three-eyed alien tried to follow up his stab with another swing of his pike, but Anzai had already guessed his move and he jumped back. The pike buzzed through the air where he had been standing. Behind him, he heard another buzz, and he turned side on to see the gunner heading towards him, toting a large vibro-axe. He frowned. Bad move boarding this thing, Anzai. Perhaps you are getting too old.

Gern re-sheathed his sword and ran to the railing, stretching out his hand to reach the boarding gantry. The ship swung in low, and Gern grabbed the hoisting strut and pulled himself up, laughing wildly. As he sat on the ramp, the ship rose, and he shouted down at all who were left on the skiff.

  “See ya later boys! Sorry I couldn’t take you with me, but as they say... tough luck!” His departing gift was in the shape of a flashing spherical ball, which he dropped to the deck by the pilot’s controls. The ugly nosed ship ascended, and then flew over the canyon wall and out of sight.

The pilot screamed and jumped away from his controls. The thermal detonator Gern had dropped beeped once, then exploded.

The force of the blast sent the pilot sailing over the edge, his arms flailing and his clothes burning. Latti’s opponent flew into his arms as the concussion wave hit him, and they both staggered towards the edge. They hit the railing and fell overboard.

The three-eyed alien staggered forward towards Anzai as the skiff heaved mightily. Anzai, glad of his better footing, took advantage of this and grabbed the force pike by it’s shaft and swung him around, carrying him past him and into the gunner with the vibro-axe. They both fell to the deck.

Latti had one arm and one leg wrapped around the railings, his other hand gripped around his former assailant's wrist, which was now gazing at him with pleading eyes.

   “Give... me... your other... hand...” Latti instructed, but he saw that the alien’s other arm was twisted at an unnatural angle. His hand began to slip. The alien gave a long squeal and was gone.

The skiff lurched. Latti suddenly realised there was no pilot, and he tried to climb back onto the deck as quickly as possible. A column of rock tore off panels from the left side of the skiff like paper as they headed towards the ground in a destructive dive.

Anzai was crawling towards the pilot’s controls himself, but a clawed hand grabbed him by the ankle. He looked behind him to see the gunner, vibro-axe still in hand and sharp teeth flashing with a grin. The pain from his wounded shoulder made Anzai dizzy as he tried to twist his foot free, but the alien got to his knees and raised his axe.

   “Hang on!” Latti cried, trying to bring the skiff down in a controlled crash. Anzai gripped the railing, and as the gunner began his blow that would have cleaved Anzai’s head in two, the skiff hit the ground.

There was an explosion as the overwrought engines erupted, and the repulsor emitters gave out one last burst before they failed. The axe-wielding gunner screamed and flew off down the deck, his only thought being to kill Anzai and not to grab something to stop himself from being catapulted from the skiff. The steering vanes were torn off as rocks across the unsmooth canyon floor ripped into the craft. The three-eyed alien hung on for all he was worth but he, too, was killed as a rock destroyed the part of the deck he was on. The skiff started to spin round, and Latti gave up trying to steer it and just held on, his eyes screwed up.

Fire and debris spewed out from the rear of the skiff, leaving a long trail of destruction. After a few terrifying seconds, the skiff came to a lurching halt.

Latti opened his eyes slowly, and scanned the deck. Only he and Anzai remained.

Anzai rolled over as the skiff settled, and the only sounds were the crackling power shortings and the cries of the night creatures.

   “Hey, Anzai,” Latti called softly.

   “What?” Anzai replied, breathing deeply to calm his nerves.

   Latti swallowed.

   “Can we go back for my stomach?”

It took just under an hour for Arach’s men to find Anzai and Latti. After they had failed to return from pursuing Gern, Arach had decided to send a speeder to try and locate his two friends. Anzai nursed a bloodied shoulder and Latti a few cracked ribs as they were transported back to the camp by a very quiet, and somewhat sombre, group of searchers.

The sight that welcomed them as they arrived at Arach’s compound was one of turmoil. The storage bins were being loaded aboard the largest starship, the habitat domes were being disassembled and packed away, and all the vessels that could not fly were being stripped of anything of use. The other craft were being patched up for a speedy journey from Cawbate.

Off to one side of the base, the dead from the battle were being buried, stored in stasis crates or being laid out on pyres, depending on the species’ custom. The bodies of the members of the short-lived Gern’s Gunnas had being piled unceremoniously outside the perimeter. They had all been stripped of weapons and equipment. Anzai sighed deeply, and turned to face Arach as he approached.

   “Arach, I’m so...”

He was cut off as Arach made a cutting motion with his hand. “I don’t want to hear it, Anzai. All my people know the risks of being with me, but this is the worse...” he stopped, shaking his head and looking at the different races of his personnel care for their dead. He turned back to Anzai, “No-one is angry with you. Stang, its not as if I haven’t used Gern Omik’s name a few times myself. They all know the risks. My clientele aren’t exactly squeaky clean, and they all bring their problems with them.”

Anzai looked to the ground and clamped his mouth shut, feeling Arach’s eyes on him. Latti was removing his jacket, wincing as the broken bones in his chest moved as he did. Latti was a fast healer, and the breaks would be all but knitted together within a day. He began to treat Anzai’s shoulder with a med-pac handed to him by Arach.

   “What’ll you do now?” Arach asked, “I’ll be ready to leave planet in four hours. I’m going to skip over to the Amagad System and lay low for a while. Your welcome to come with me.”

Anzai worked his shoulder as Latti tightened the gauze around the wound, trying to get feeling back into the flesh.

   “I’ll need Dressel’s location. He still flies around in that converted sail barge, yeah?”

Arach nodded.

   “I’ve been doing a little work for him, so I’ve got a pretty good idea where he is. Why are you going to see him?”

   “Because he’s in the know about all underworld dealings in the surrounding systems. If anyone knows whose put a bounty on my head, it’ll be him. Besides, I haven’t seen him in a while. I’ll need a speeder, Arach.”

Arach nodded, and motioned to an old battered open-topped speeder with three worn engines parked by one of the half-collapsed habitat domes.

   “I’m off-planet in four hours, Anzai. I’ll look after the Cannon Angel, but after then I’ll leave her here for you to pick up.” He tossed him an ignition card for the speeder.

Anzai caught it and nodded to Arach.

   “Four hours.”

Latti stared at Anzai’s profile as they sped over the open plains of Cawbate under the night sky. His hair and facial braids whipped around his head as the speeder flew. Anzai’s expression had not changed since they had left Arach’s base half an hour before, during which they had passed through two small settlements without stopping. It seemed to Latti that Anzai had barely noticed the buildings as they flew past in a darkened blur, and he was unsure he cared for the sour visage he was looking at. He had an idea what he as thinking.

   “You sure you want to see Dressel about all this? It’s been a while since you last visited him.”

He never received an answer. Anzai continued to switch his gaze between the terrain ahead and the location finder on the control board. Latti knew that he could easily engage the auto-driver and relax for a while. He was confused as to why he hadn’t.

Anzai wasn’t ignoring Latti. He was lost in thought.

It seemed like an eternity ago...

Has it really been thirty standard years since we all met?  I was in my late teens and Dressel was in his mid-twenties, as were Glann, D’Staan and Riger.

It’s funny. I was there but I don’t remember much about the Clone Wars.  But I remember well the stories of the ancient Jedi Knights.  As a kid those stories filled me with wonder and a passion I never shook off.  Stories of the Jedi Knights defeating an evil that threatened to engulf the Galaxy. I remember hearing about the Mandalorians and their terrifying armour, and tales of blazing lightsabres and great heroic battles.

I wanted so much to be a Jedi. It was one wish I was never granted. I just never had the knack. Or the skill. Or the patience, which was something the masters used to remind me of constantly. Still, I was a hotheaded kid then. I thought I was capable of anything. I failed in my tests and studies with style. It was no wonder I spent the next few years wallowing in my own failures.

And then those four came along - Dressel, Glann, D’Staan and Riger. Four of the most dangerous people I had ever met. I bumped into them at one of the many bars on the second moon of Tesser, and they obviously saw I was a sucker with a head full of dreams and very little to show for it. So they started to fill my mind with stories of their bold exploits as smugglers and free-traders working for the likes of Duze Jostenn and the Hutt clans from Nal Hutta, travelling in their own starship, and the many places they had visited and conquered with their shady deals and amazing business sense. Like an idiot I took it all in, unaware they were telling me elaborate stories that other more worthy beings had participated in. Their way of life sounded amazing to me. The one thing I learned from them is that it is a huge unforgiving galaxy out there, and if you don’t grab what you can, when you can, you’re just nothing. I didn’t want to be nothing, and I knew all about failure from my short-lived studies to become a Jedi. I had to get out of the rut I had fallen into, and this seemed to be just the thing to do it. As I heard more and more about their plans to make more credits than the Republic had small change, and to become famous with a reputation that stretched across countless star systems, I knew that this was what I wanted to do. I asked them if I could join their quartet.

At first, I thought I had made the biggest mistake of my life. I can remember spending countless hours swabbing the decks of that battered old freighter, repairing some of the minor systems, and preparing their food for them. I was nothing but a lackey, doing the jobs they hated, but damn I kept that freighter clean. Everything was where it was supposed to be and everything was clean and hygienic. I was proud of that vessel, and I remember getting quite attached to her over the years we had her. The Happy Contriver was her name. What a ship.

But it wasn’t the high-life of excitement that I wanted.

It all changed about a year later, when something went wrong with a pickup on Tatooine. It turned out we had been double-crossed by a local spice dealer, and he had decided he didn’t want to pay for the goods we had brought for him. We got into a pretty thick gun battle, and, ignoring Glann’s commands to stay inside the ship, I dropped two of the goons the dealer was using as backup before we all scratched gravel and blasted off. We were chased by a couple of gunboats, but after a few fancy moves at the helm I got us out of there in double quick time.

Well, obviously, they saw me in a different light then. I accompanied them on deals and escapades I’ll never forget. The galaxy was ours.

But I still scrubbed that ship for all I was worth. It’s one habit I never broke. I was good ol’ Anzai... fast with a Blaster, but faster with a mop.

Nearly fifteen standard years we blasted around the galaxy. We did well, despite that business with D’Staan disappearing into the Core, right up to the point when Riger vanished.

We were on the planet Trefnare, which was one of the grandest places I had ever seen. Riger, who was the quietest of the group, had told me that we were going to make a deal that would bring in hundreds of thousands of credits enough money so that we could retire for several lifetimes. I remember being a bit annoyed that neither Dressel or Glann had mentioned this deal to me, but I knew what they were like. Dressel had always been the sneaky one... he would double-cross his own mother if he had known who she was. Glann was more accommodating, but demanded complete loyalty if you agreed to help him with anything. Obviously, they had already done the preliminary talks with whoever it was we were dealing with and had neglected to tell me about it until they could secure their own inflated shares.

Trefnare was a peaceful world, and it was also a recruitment area for people who wanted to join the Republic’s military forces, including the Jedi Knights. As I understand it the Jedi were being hunted by the Emperor, and he’d sent out someone called Darth Vader to do the dirty work.  It was their aim to hunt down and destroy the Jedi Knights.  The Empire had become the ruling force in the galaxy. Dissent was starting to spring up in a lot of systems against the ruling of the New Order, and from what I could gather from Riger, the creds we were earning had something to do with that. He was going with Glann and Dressel to run the deal, although he, too, was mostly in the dark about the details of the job. I was told to remain on board ship.

Three hours later, only Dressel and Glann returned, hauling two great transit packs containing nearly a million creds! I was amazed! I had never seen so much money in all my life! I was told to blast off quick, and everything would be explained to me when we hit hyperspace.

When they told me what had happened, I felt physically sick. The Empire had placed a hefty price on the heads of a family of Jedi, who were hiding out on Trefnare. It had been Glann and Dressel who had found the family after they had asked for transport off Trefnare in exchange for a hundred thousand credits. As Glann had said, they must have been really desperate. So they took their money, and then handed them all over to the Empire for an exorbitant fee. The family was slaughtered.

This led me to ask what had happened to Riger. Glann didn’t know much about that, and Dressel never told me the details. He said that Riger had a sudden attack of morality when he found out what they were about to do, so he ‘dealt with him’. What he did, whether he killed him or not, I never found out.

We reached the planet Amagad after a few hours, where they gave me my share, a measly forty thousand credits. They decided to hit the town and celebrate, and they invited me to accompany them to raise a glass to our new trio.

It took me two days to buy a second-hand ship, which I called the Cannon Angel, and skip the system. I knew enough, and had enough credits, to start out on my own, and the thought of staying with the two of them was unsettling. How could I know whether I would be ‘dealt with’ next?

Eventually Glann sunk his money into a few investments and made enough money to buy out the office of the governor of Amagad City, and he turned the whole place into a haven for all kinds of scum. He’s doing quite well for himself these days, and has his work cut out for him, owning a city and all that.

It turned out that Glann and Dressel had a major falling out over something or other, and Dressel jumped over to Cawbate to start his own business. Now the pair of them run their own operations, both legal and illegal, and try not to cross each others paths.

And me? Well, I’m not for the gang boss business, and, besides, I never had the creds to start my own set-up. I did a few runs for both Glann and Dressel, but then branched out and smuggled for others like Ploovoo Two-for-one, Duze Jostenn, before Glann had him assassinated, Size Fromm and Jabba the Hutt. I like it round the Setnin Sector, though, where Amagad and Cawbate are. It’s all familiar territory, and it’s a big sector.