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To the Highest Bidder 2000 short story by Jonathan Hicks Three years after Episode IV - A New Hope Pillot
wiped his eyes and checked the readout. “All functions are showing nominal status.
I’d say we’ll make planetfall in a little less than
half an hour.” The
captain of the Corellian Corvette Redblade
nodded conformation, his headtails swinging with the slight movement. “Understood. Tell our passengers to
prepare for transition to realspace,” The Twi'lek
said, rising from his seat and walking over to the communications console. Pillot
adjusted the device in his ear imperceptibly, increasing the range of his
hearing. He listened closely as the captain leaned down to the communications
officer and whispered, “As soon as we drop out of hyperspace call Amagad and
inform Glann Cipple we’ve reached the Repusub System.” Pillot
nodded to himself. He had been right in his decision to join the crew of this
vessel. He had suspected it secretly belonged to the Setnin Sector’s most
infamous ganglord, going under the guise of a normal transport whilst
covertly ferrying Glann’s business. Pillot had joined the crew back on
Amagad. The Redblade was hiring
after an exceptionally hard journey through the Soluman Delta Gulf where
several hands had been lost to a Zobian pirate attack. He had worked hard to
get his appointment. To
Pillot, working hard translated into ‘using every dirty means possible to get
what he wanted’. He had cajoled the Twi'lek captain of the vessel to consider
him for the navigator’s chair, even though he had very little experience. The
captain had looked the man up and down, taken in his rough attire, his
triangular face and his piercing green eyes, noticing the narrow stare and
the almost devilish appearance. That interview alone had cost him two thousand
in bribes. Then the other two beings applying for the same position met with
unfortunate accidents, one fatal, which meant that he was the only one
available. For
over a month they had done legal work throughout the sector, which bored
Pillot senseless. He had been waiting for a long time for the ship to finally
touch down on Amagad, the base of Glann Cipple’s operations. The cargo was
loaded quickly and clandestinely, under the cover of darkness. Security was
tight. So tight that every crewmember of the Redblade had undergone a search and personality interview by none
other than Glann’s headman Melm. The white-haired Shadow Warrior had been
thorough with every one of them but still hadn’t noticed that Pillots documents were forged by the new navigator’s own
hands. Now
was his chance. During the relative confusion while everyone prepared for the
drop out of hyperspace, he could try to identify the cargo. He
stood, picking up a datapad and crossing over to the captain who was secretly
conversing with the communications officer. “Sir?” The
Twi'lek turned, looking Pillot up and down. He obviously didn’t like his new
navigator standing behind him whilst he was having a private conversation. “What is it, Pillot?” “I’d like to head down to the hyperdrive
motivators and just check that last batch of calculations were
picked up by the processor. After that red light during the jump I’d just
like to be sure.” Pillot
had adjusted the processor himself so that he could make such an offer for an
excuse to get down to the rear of the ship where the cargo area was. He would
have to go down two levels from the bridge and head back to the engineering
level C monitoring station. Just below that level was the belly hold where
Glann’s secret was being kept. The
captain nodded. The Twi'lek appeared annoyed that Pillot had interrupted just
to ask permission. “Go ahead. Be back in twenty for the
transition.” Pillot
turned and left the bridge. He quickstepped down the shining white corridors
and past the environmental and weapons control stations, squeezing past other
crewmembers who were busily preparing for landing. He noticed that some of
the men who got on board with the cargo were meandering around nonchalantly
and he tried his best to look busy. He knew that the beings Glann employed
for these special operations were adept at body language, no matter what the
species, and he tried his best to appear casual. One of them gave him a
cursory look but didn’t allow his gaze to linger. There were obviously far
too many people about to allow attention to dwell too long on one. He
jammed himself into an already cramped turbolift and asked for deck four, but
still had to wait while the lift went to all decks for others before he could
get out. On the lower level where many of the maintenance bays were it was
quieter as there weren’t as many important in-flight stations down here.
There were still personnel moving around so Pillot pretended to inspect
several lesser systems as they collected tools or ‘droids and left the deck.
As the corridor thinned of crew he slipped into the darker-walled serviceways. He
waited, checking his chronometer to make sure he had enough to time to
inspect what was in the hold and still get back to the bridge in time for
transition. When there were very little people on the deck, Pillot headed to
the floor maintenance hatch, which lead down to the belly hold. There was an accessway hatch that went directly to all decks but it
wasn’t as tucked away as the maintenance entrance. He quickly scanned the
corridor he was in to assure himself he was alone and popped the cover. After
a short climb down a ladder he arrived in the service corridor of the belly
hold. It was cramped down here with open workpanels
and disused stations. He slowly walked over the entrance to the hold and
pressed his ear up against the metal of the blast door. The
thrumming of the engines made it
difficult to discern any sounds in the hold so Pillot adjusted the earpiece
to tighten the pickup beam. He closed his eyes, one finger in the un-enhanced
ear to block other noises, and listened. All
he could hear was the bleeping of
machinery and processors but no other sounds. He listened for the movement of
beings or the sound of talking but he heard neither. Pillot
licked his dry lips. He knew he wouldn’t discover anything unless he took a
chance and opened the blast door so he reached up to the controls and pressed
the activation stud. As
he had expected the doors had been sealed. He
checked the corridor quickly, surprised at there being no guards but knowing
that they were probably counting on the door security and mingling with the
crew. He reached into his flightsuit leg pocket and
took out a small tool kit containing items that resembled their larger
machinery cousins but on a smaller scale. He used one tool to flip open the
panel to the door controls and the other to play around with the control’s
interior workings. Somebody
had attached a class three miniature sensornet to
the controls, he noticed, but he made short work of that. He had dealt with
locks of much more sophistication than this and was pleased when he managed
to bypass the security lockouts in less than two minutes. With another quick
scan of the corridor he closed the panel and pressed the stud again. The
doors slowly opened and he quickly stepped inside, a small two-shot
palm-sized Blaster slipping free of his sleeve and into his hand as he did
so. The
cargo hold was dimly lit and very cold. He looked around and took in his
surroundings but wasn’t entirely sure what it was he was looking at. The
hold had been adjusted to cold storage, icicles had already started forming
on the ceiling cross beams and off any ledge the hold possessed. Pillot could
see his own breath as it condensed in the chilled air. In
the centre of the hold was a portable workstation where several large wires
were snaking from. These wires wound their way across the floor and under six
tall objects that were covered in heavy tarpaulins. Pillot examined the
workstation but couldn’t even begin to guess at its function. Only one
monitor was active, beeping softly,
split into six separate readouts that were apparently monitoring lifesigns. Pillot
looked up, concerned as to what was under the covers but knowing that he
should check straight away. He was running out of time. He
walked over to the nearest object which was a full eight feet high, and
pulled the cord that would uncover the mystery. As
the cover fell away, showering ice to the deckplates, Pillot couldn’t help
but drop back with revulsion. The
object was a tall stasis tube, filled to the top with a light red liquid that
seemed to bubble as if carbonated. The liquid was contained in a forcefield that projected from a lower disc to an upper
one, some kind of energy field that manipulated the liquid. Floating in this
liquid was what made Pillot retreat. It’s
flesh appeared white, giving the creature an almost albino appearance, but it
was difficult to tell it’s actual colour because of the distortion of the
liquid. It was thin-limbed but sinewy, the muscles
which appeared to entwine the joints looked like knotted cables. It had long
legs that bent back on themselves with three long-clawed digits on each foot.
A small tail jabbed half a metre from the creature's lower back, and an
impossibly thin waist spread out into a wide powerful chest. From the centre
of this chest were two smaller limbs, each one the length of the average
small child, with thin dextrous hands. Two heavier arms from bony shoulders
ended in large powerful hands that were four-fingered. But
it was the head that made Pillot swallow nervously. It seemed it grew from
the body like a snake, with no visible neck. It curled over and terminated in
a mouth filled with serrated uneven teeth. Two eyes, so thin they were almost
slits on the bony surface, blinked as Pillot watched. The damn thing’s alive in there, Pillot
thought and tore his eyes away. He
moved over to the workstation, all the while conscious that he was being
watched by the creature, and looked over the controls and monitors. He activated
several, intrigued now by the creature’s origins, and found a screen entitled
log. He turned it on fully and went
over several time indexes before settling on the ones that appeared
interesting. He checked his chronometer. He had eight minutes. Curiosity
got the better of him and he started the log. There
was a hiss and a disembodied holographic head appeared over the monitor. The
human male had an almost military-type haircut and a heavyset jaw.
“Doctor Jenner Harrys, log fifteen, day twelve. After testing the
genetic sequence we gathered new information on the protein chain and how it
would react to aggressive molecular re-moulding. We had already ascertained... “ Pillot
forwarded it on. He had no patience for techno-babble and understood it even
less. Then the log hit an entry called ‘procedure and conclusion brief’ and
he stopped it. He pressed play and watched, blowing warm air into his hands
as he started to feel the effects of the cold. “Doctor
Jenner Harrys, log three hundred and eight, day two hundred and six. We know
where we’re going wrong. We’ve genetically cloned and modified the
Coryarthanax almost to Glann’s specifications but we can’t change the natural
instinct of the creature to kill. It is devastating to watch it hunt, and the
sooner we get to the secure facility on Repusub the safer I’ll feel. The
specimens we have are mutating, into what I can’t even begin to guess at this
point.
“Glann has made his specifications clear, although I still don’t fully
understand the requirements. He says that he wants a creature that is
intelligent but not capable of full independent thought that will be loyal to
him and him only, a creature ruthless and dangerous and able to do his
bidding with no questions.
“Is Glann aiming to replace his personnel? I don’t see the reason but
it appears that Glann wants subjects he can trust and order about. He says he
wants to improve security without having to rely on hired help. Whatever’s
got him worried must be pretty powerful to want creatures like this to
exist...” “What the hell are you doing in here?” Pillot
twirled to see a tall alien with flashing green eyes and long thick strands
of some biological content cascading from it’s
crown. It walked over as Pillot backed off, palm gun hidden in his hand. “I’m just checking systems,” he began and
placed his best innocent expression on his face. The alien looked at the
workstation and pressed several switches. Pillot was about to make a move on
the being but he saw that it’s eyes moved independently of one another so he
was being watched as the workstation was accessed. “You’ve been looking at my bosses logs...”
the alien started. Pillot, hearing the words ‘my boss’ and assuming that the
alien was another scientist, bought the weapon up. The
alien was fast, faster than Pillot had anticipated, and lunged at him in
panic. Its head tails whirled into action, not just some form of decoration,
and two of them whipped into his hand. Pillot
yowled as his shot was turned from its intended target and the energy bolt
slammed into the workstation. There
were small explosions and sparks as the panels erupted. The workstation shut
down. The
tall stasis tubes, devoid of power, shut down also. The fields collapsed and
the liquid splashed violently to the floor in thick heavy waves. The
Coryarthanax fell also, connecting with the deckplates loudly where it lay
still. Judging by the lumps under the tarpaulins, other creatures had also
been inside the stasis fields. The
alien jumped past Pillot and tried to get behind him but Pillot spun, his
feet slippery with the thick liquid as it started to freeze as soon as it
contacted the deck. He yanked hard, the headtails that had wrapped around his
gun wrist tightening. He was pulled violently to his knees, the alien unbelievably
strong. Then
the pressure relaxed. Pillot looked up to see the alien slowly walking
backwards towards the door, his eyes locked on something just behind him. Pillot
turned as he stood, and understood the alien’s fear straight away. The
uncovered creature was standing slowly, obviously unused to being outside the
stasis tube. It shook itself, spraying the thick fluid everywhere as it rid
itself of the clinging moisture. It started with its head and shook every
limb in turn. Then it stopped and lifted its head. The
roar it emitted sent Pillot for the door. It was a heavy roar that made the
deckplates tremble and Pillots eardrums protest
painfully. At the back of that roar was a scream that seemed to contain
words. The other tarpaulins shifted as if responding to that scream. The
alien had headed for the turbolift and Pillot followed. “Cad
ab jo culda!
Cad ab jo culda!” it was shouting over and over. As Pillot
approached the turbolift door it began to close. Behind
him he could hear the sound of what sounded like metal scraping on metal but
he knew it wasn’t. It was the footfalls of the Coryarthanax. And
they were free. He
dived into the lift car at the last moment, not looking back. He found
himself on top of the cowering alien with a tall silver protocol ‘droid
hovering to one side, obviously disorientated by the sudden intrusion. “Oh, my,” it said. “Cad
ab jo culda...
cad ab jo culda...” the alien repeated over and over. Pillot,
breathing hard as the cold had hurt his throat, looked from the alien to the
‘droid. “What’s he saying?” he asked casually. “Oh, dear, sir, it appears that ‘we are
all going to die’.” Pillot
looked at his wrist chrono. He was three minutes late, but it didn’t matter
anymore. They would have dropped out of hyperspace without his help and he
wasn’t staying aboard any longer. He could think of nothing safer than to
feign illness and get to his quarters, staying low until they had touched
down and then disappearing. But
what to do with the alien doctor? Sirens
started to blare as the lift doors opened on deck two. Men were running this
way and that in confusion, and Pillot stepped into the throng as the alien
pushed past him and headed for the nearest Glann employee. Pillot went with
the flow and secreted himself in the crowd. Then
the screaming started. Weaponsfire from the lower
decks and before he could finish saying ‘what the heck was that’ pandemonium
erupted all along the corridor. Pillot
had seen play-acted Holo-vids where a heroine or
hero would be stalked by a powerful beast where it would hunt them slowly,
increasing the drama and suspense of the show. But
these things moved blindingly fast. They gave no indication of the need for
suspense or forethought. They killed one and then immediately moved onto the
next. The heaving crowd obstructed Pillots view but
he could see blood and bodies flying all over the far end of the corridor.
How they had got up to this deck so quickly Pillot didn’t know. They just
had. The
way they moved, the speed, the agility, leaping from wall to floor to
ceiling, slicing and striking and killing. The
alien was right. They were all
going to die. He had to get to an escape pod. And fast. Damn it, he thought, I’m
on the wrong deck. The
turbolifts were behind him now as he was pushed along in the surge. The
cockpit was ahead, the last place he wanted to be, and he fought to get to
the side of the corridor. He knew there was a service hatch leading up to
deck one, and right next to the hatch exit was a lifepod.
As long as the other crewmembers didn’t think the ship was in danger, he
should be able to get in one and off. More
shouts. Weapons reported, splashing Blaster bolts off the walls as the
creatures dove and weaved their way around the shots to kill the firer's.
Even the ones that were hit shrugged off the impact, the wounds gaping and
smoking but not impeding the progress of the beasts. The roars were
deafening, with that almost-words scream resonating in the back of the roar. Pillot
forced his way up through the hatch and sealed it behind him. Crewmembers
shouted for information and instructions but received no answer. The
ship lurched. Pillot knew they would be over Repusub, now, and they would be
in realspace. Then he remembered that he had left
deck two with the Coryarthanax heading towards the bridge. If
his guess was correct, the bridge crew were dead and the vessel was out of
control. His
fears were realised as the vessel swung wildly, throwing all to the deck. Pillot
couldn’t get his balance but when the access hatch exploded upwards and one
of the beasts emerged from the wrecked cover he suddenly found it easier to
move and virtually leaped to an escape pod. Inside
the pod he could hear blasting weapons and screams from the crew as they
died, muffled and distant. He had never felt sorry for anyone in his entire
life except for himself, but having seen those creatures he couldn’t imagine
a more horrible way to die. The
ship steadied itself as the emergency navigation computer kicked in. The
vessel would crash land but it would be a controlled landing, Pillot knew, so
he had to get off the ship before these things got to the surface. On the
ship there were places to hide. On the ground he would be good as dead. He
flipped switches, opened a cover and pressed three buttons in sequence. He held
onto the ejection webbing. Nothing
happened. Then
the explosive latches erupted and the pod was thrown from it’s
bay. As
the pod tumbled from the corvette it listed, heading towards the atmosphere
under computer control. The corvette dropped under its own automated control,
seemingly as out of control as the lifepod. There
was enough space in the pod for at least seven but only Pillot was inside
this one. He breathed hard to calm himself. “So, why do you think he’s creating these
things?” Dressel asked Pillot as he handed him his drink. Pillot
looked out over the flats of the Cawbate prairies as the ganglords twin
sailbarge, the Duet, travelled
slowly over the planet’s surface. “I can’t even begin to guess,” he replied.
“Whatever he’s afraid of he’s willing to create one of the scariest things
I’ve ever seen and is even arrogant enough to try and control it.” Dressel
shook his head. “When you approached me and said you could
gather information I had my doubts but you seem to have done well. Very well.
I think a bonus is coming your way. This is some of the best information
about Glann I’ve ever had. Genetic creations? I knew he was mad, but this...” Pillot
smiled to himself. “Well, his secrets out now. When the Redblade crashed on Repusub those
things got out and adapted, survived. They breed quite fast and there’s a
whole continent on Repusub that's quarantined, now. There are even rumours
they’ve spread to other worlds by hiding on ships. Smart and deadly.” Dressel
smiled. “I might try to acquire one. I hear
Gillion Hulsh is hunting locally, perhaps I’ll call him.” “You’ll need a frecking plasooka to get one of these
things, Dressel. Trust me.” “I think I do trust you, Pillot. Another
drink?” Pillot
nodded. “So Dressel is trying to learn as much
about Glann as he can?” Pocock mused. “I wonder why? I wonder if he’s going
to try something?” Pillot
shrugged. “Beats me. Dressel’s taking a lot of
interest in Cipple’s operation. Thanks for the bonus.” Jomobol
Pocock, gangleader operating from the planet Zelon, handed Pillot his credits
and waved him away, wondering over this new piece of information. “I’ll call you if I need any other jobs
doing, Pillot,” Pocock said. Pillot
exited Pocock’s safehouse and walked into the streets
of Chancai Trade Centre, pocketing his credits. He looked out of one of the
huge building-sized windows overlooking the mountains and smiled to himself. Easy money. Flipping
a credit coin to a beggar in the street, Pillot headed down to level twelve for
his meeting with Predd Jason. To the Highest Bidder 2000 short story by Jonathan Hicks Three years after Episode IV - A New Hope Histories - One of the most treacherous characters in the Setnin Sector and a regular player in
the early NHP stories and
cassettes, Pillot has been on the periphery of most stories and plotlines
without ever being at the centre of any.
Brought to the fore, this tale by Jonathan
Hicks shows the ease with which Pillot switches sides and plays various
people off each other. Never afraid to
work for multiple employers at the same time Pillot has worked for the Empire, infiltrated the Alliance on a number of occasions and
worked for practically every major gangleader in the Mid and Outer Rims. A dangerous character, Pillot was a man to
fear. Cast of
Characters Pillot Dressel Jomobol
Pocock |