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Sanction: Off 2000 short story by
Jonathan Hicks Sixteen years after Episode IV – A New Hope Vedira had spent the last few hours trying to secure a transport out of Kayshee City and off the surface of Clayboss. He had cajoled and bribed to set up the meeting he now had in the private office of the transport company. He had used his own contacts and several favours to meet the man he now faced, the roughly bearded pilotmaster. The first indication that something was
drastically wrong was when his hired gunman, who had been watching the street
for signs of trouble, came flying through the front window. Glass erupted all
over those inside the room and as some dived for the exits others dived for
their weapons. The bearded pilotmaster grappled for his blaster and Vedira
threw himself under the wide holo-table. The black mandalorian-armoured figure that dived
through the shattered glass moved faster than the eye could follow, diving
into a roll that enabled him to avoid incoming blaster fire, coming out of the
roll and snapping off two stun shots that sent his assailants flying. “It’s
Boba Fett!” someone cried in rough basic, dropping his weapon and scrabbling
for the door. The armoured figure stood to his full towering height and
visibly clicked his weapon to kill. “I don’t
want you,” he said to the pilotmaster who took his cue and ran through the
broken window, leaving the cowering form with the obsidian terror. “T...
Tarr Ranth,” the figure said, swallowing nervously as he stared at the black
figure with an inordinately large weapon pointed at him and strangely wishing
it was Fett. “I have
an apprehend or terminate warrant on you, Vedira,” Ranth said, stepping
forward slowly and crunching broken glass under his heavy boots. “You know
the charges.” He raised his stun pistol and prepared to fire. He always found
it easier to bring in targets that didn’t put up a fight, and he was pressed
for time as it was. He had three more sanctions to complete before he could
leave the system and continue his high-paying contract in the Ki-Ki Sector. “Drop it, Ranth!” came a muted voice
behind the black-clad bounty hunter. Tarr, making sure that Vedira wasn’t armed and therefore presenting no threat whilst he focused his attention behind him, spun quickly, dropped into a crouch and targeted the voice. Queed stood, silhouetted against the light coming
in through the broken window. His own armour was dirty and unkempt, with a
heavy helmet covering his face. The
helmet had two long mandibles that hung down his armoured chest. He was
levelling a heavy blaster rifle at the shining dark hunter. “You,”
Ranth growled. He had met Queed before and remembered their... disagreement. “I have the warrant on
this man, Queed. I was here first. Honour my claim.” “You
have no claim,” Queed stepped through the window. “I have
a warrant.” Queed rested his rifle in the nook of his arm, keeping it pointed at Ranth with one arm whilst reaching down to his belt. Ranth watched intently, making sure that the man wasn’t going to try to spring a trick. Queed wasn’t going to try anything. He unclipped a datapad from his belt and held it up for Ranth to see. “The
warrant has been rescinded,” he said. “There is no bounty on this man.” Ranth was amazed. He had spent the better part of
the week tracking this criminal down, following clues and chasing leads that
other hunters would not have noticed, doing in just a few days what would
have taken most hunters a few weeks. He looked at his own datapad with the
smug face of his quarry on it and shook his head. “When?” “This
morning. I was told you were after him and that you may not have known.” “How did
you find me?” Queed’s helmet tilted up and down as he regarded
the figure in front of him. “You
kind of stick out in a crowd, Ranth.” “I won’t
let this man go,” Ranth said. “He’s a murderer and a slaver. He has the blood
of twenty Twi’lek’s on his hands.” With an almost imperceptible shake of his head
Queed approached further into the room, his rifle lowering. “Not
according to the Kayshee courts. No witnesses turned up to the
defendant-absent hearing. No testimony means no case. You can’t have him.” “I saw him kill two slaves myself an hour ago. That’s why I
struck now. I will not let him go.” “Do you
have proof he killed them?” “Not
yet...” “Then
let him go and wipe your warrant pad. You’ll get another chance.” Vedira started to creep towards a side exit and as
his hand came out from under the table Ranth stepped back and placed his heel
on it. There was a crunch as Vedira yowled with the pain. “My
hand!” Ranth looked down at him, his helmet sparkling. “Going
somewhere?” “Ranth
let him go. You have no warrant, you have no...” “When I
get him back to the constabulary I’ll tell them what I saw...” “And they’ll ignore you. Hunter testimony is inadmissible.” “I do
not lie...” “And I
won’t let you break the code.” Queed brought his rifle back up and Ranth
responded by levelling his pistol at Queed’s head. The two armoured hunters
were now barely two meters apart. Vedira whimpered on the floor. “Oh, my
gods...” “If you
kill him now, Ranth, you’ll be a murderer not a bounty hunter. You have no
legal hold on this target.” “I won’t
let him go. It’s not right.” Queed tilted his head with what appeared to be
confusion. “But
we’re bounty hunters. What do we care about what’s right and what’s wrong?” “Do you
mock me?” Ranth’s attention was fully on Queed now. He cared little if Vedira
attempted to run, knowing that he would hardly get two paces before he cut
him down. “Do you think I don’t care?
I’ve done this job longer than most and I have seen the law powerless to do
the things I can do. I have watched beings reduced to shivering wrecks
because of matters that are out of their control. I have been able to
change that. Because I care.” There was a strange fluting noise from Queed’s
helmet and Ranth tensed. It took him a few moments to realise that Queed was
actually laughing. The noise soon turned into a rich laugh that grated his
nerves. “You
care? You care? Ha! That’s a new
one! My take on the whole bounty hunter thing was that we’re given contracts
and we carry them out to the letter of the local law, maybe treading on a few
toes to get the job done. When since have we had the inclination... no, the right... to care about what that
target has done?” Ranth wasn’t enjoying this. In front of him was an
armoured man who had crossed him and who had broken many laws to get his
targets, and here he was laughing at him. Laughing at his code. Laughing at
his beliefs. “How
dare you!” he shouted. “How dare you make such insinuations of my character!
The law is powerless in many respects but I get the job done where others
would fail! Are you painting all hunters with the same holo-brush, Queed? Perhaps it is you
who are the misguided one.” “Once
you take the law into your own hands then you go far beyond the creed of
hunters, Ranth. You become vigilante, and who gave you the right to
judge others, eh? Why did you take the sanctions when you could have easily
stalked the night and taken your own vengeance on what you assume to be the
wrong doers? Don’t tell me I’m misguided; I’m just doing what the law
prescribes. Yes, they do employ us when all else fails, but that’s why we do
it. Innocent or guilty, what’s the difference? We complete sanctions.
Anything else is personal and therefore makes you the criminal.” Ranth took his foot off Vedira’s hand now that he
was sure the man wasn’t going to try and run. Vedira tenderly cradled his
hand to his chest and looked up at the dark hunter with fear. “My
hand...” “So
let’s say I allow this man to go,” Ranth said. “He continues with his killing
spree and more beings die. Could you
live with that? I couldn’t. I have the chance to stop him and save innocent
lives.” “And how
are you going to stop him?” Queed lowered his weapon and stood at ease. “You
can’t take him to the law. The warrant is no good and he’ll walk. Are you
going to lock him up yourself, and then spend the rest of your life looking
after him? Or do you intend to fry him?” “No...” came a weak voice from under the holo-table. Both Ranth and Queed turned on the man. “Shut
up!” they shouted in unison. “In cold
blood, Ranth. He’s unarmed. He can’t fight back. He’s as helpless as the
beings he killed. It’s easy. Just
point and shoot and no more troubles. I do it sometimes when time is pressing
or the target is dangerous. Dead or alive, that’s what the warrant says. You
lose money on dead, but its so much easier. Go on, prove me wrong. Show me
you’re the caring selfless being! Save the galaxy from him! Shoot him! Shoot
him!” “Enough!”
Ranth shouted, the words more of a roar than an exclamation. “Do it!
Show the galaxy you care by shooting an unarmed man! Show them you care by
letting him go! For freck’s sake, shoot
him!” Tarr spun on Vedira, his weapon primed and
humming, the targeting scope lighting up with target acquisition. Vedira
cowered, the pain in his hand forgotten due to the sudden threat of his life
ending. He closed his eyes and waited. There was no shot, no blast, no smell of carbon or
flash of light. Vedira opened one eye to see Ranth with his pistol at Queed’s
head. He exhaled, but quietly so as not to attract attention. “Why are
you doing this?” Ranth hissed. “After all these years, after all I’ve done,
what makes you think you have the right to stand there and accuse me of
having doubtful morals?” “Because
I know you, Ranth. I’ve seen your kind before. They start the job thinking
they have everything sweet and sorted in their heads but when they take in
that first innocent target they realise they’ve been misplaced. Have you ever
taken in a sanction that has pleaded for mercy? That has told you they’re
innocent? ‘There’s been a terrible mistake’, or ‘you’ve got the
wrong man’? Think back. How many of your targets have said that and you
took them in anyway?” “I did
everything the law required...” “Oh, that old excuse. So what are you
doing now? The law requires you to let this man go. Shoot him now, break that
law, and they’ll make sure there’s a bounty on your head so big you’ll never
be able to show your face in public again. You’ll be a rogue hunter. A
liability. A bad stain on the guilds.” Ranth’s pistol was wavering. “And
what of you, Queed? Are you acting honourably now? Did you come out here to
help this man or me? This has been
building this up for a long time. Since our last altercation. You can’t beat
me in combat so you’ll beat me with words, is that it? What happened to your
sense of conduct, loyalty to the guild, when you have to track down an
adversary so that you can spout this garbage and convince me I’m in the wrong
job? I think you don’t like
the competition. You can’t kill me, by the code or by skill, so you’ll force
me out of the job. Treading on your toes, am I? Taking those sanctions you
wanted. Stealing your limelight. I don’t worry about such trivial things. I know
the risks. I know some targets may be innocent but I bring them in, and the
law decides.” “Oh,
yes, I have a lot of faith in Mid-Rim law.” “Don’t
think me a fool. You assume too much. You stand there spouting your rubbish
about hunter’s creed, but I have one thing you’ll never have. Standards.
That’s what you hate about me. I have the soul that you crave.” Queed cleared his throat uncomfortably. “Were
you thinking of standards when you set Boba Fett up?” Ranth stiffened and growled menacingly. “What?” “You
know, when you lured Boba Fett out with that false sanction and beat him up.
You recorded the whole thing, blackmailing his reputation as the best so that
he wouldn’t cross you.” “How
could you know about that?” Queed tilted his head with surprise. “What,
you don’t know? After it happened, Fett told everyone what you’d done. He
doesn’t give a freck about image;
he just gets the job done, like you, like me. If some arrogant upstart wants
to feel superior and think he’s got one up on him then that’s fine, as long
as he doesn’t come between him and his target. He’s not proud.” Queed paused for a brief second. “Wait... you mean you didn’t know that
everyone knew?” Queed guffawed. “You didn’t know? After all these years...
why do you think you’re still hunting in the Mid-Rim? Who near the Core’ll
want to hire an arrogant hunter who thinks he can blackmail his way to the
top? Ha. Ha ha ha...” All Ranth could do was watch the armoured hunter rock back in merriment, the laugh striking him in the heart like a vibroblade. His finger tensed on the trigger but he didn’t discharge the blaster. “Where
was your sense of honour then, Ranth? Where was your pride when you struck
down Boba Fett just so you could feel superior?” Queed suddenly fell serious.
“What arrogance. Petulance. Your reputation was decided after you attacked
him. What you did was underhanded and, dare I say it, totally immoral.” “Fett
was my greatest adversary. My greatest threat. I defeated him to prove
myself.”
“Honourable combat between two bounty hunters? Don’t make me laugh, Ranth, it hurts my chest
breather.” Ranth lowered the blaster and leaned back against
the holo-table, looking down at his boots as if becoming weary of the
conversation. His stance was that of a man who was relaxed and calm, although
Queed’s words had struck him like a blaster shot. Ranth was far too experienced
to allow his emotions to be relayed to an adversary. He was glad he had
denied Queed the chance to gloat over any distress he may of felt, and he
smiled behind his visor as Queed shifted, obviously a little taken aback by
Ranth’s apparent ease. “You
wouldn’t understand, Queed. You don’t know my life, my view of this
existence.” “You’re
right. I don’t understand. I’ll never
understand.” Ranth didn’t look up as Queed turned to leave. All
he heard was the crunching of glass under his heavy combat boots. Vedira was
silent now, just listening to the words, not understanding the meaning of it
all. The crunching stopped by the broken window as Queed turned back to
Ranth. “You
said I hated you, Ranth. Want to know why?” “I’m
sure you’ll tell me,” Ranth said quietly, his mind still whirling from the
conversation. “Because
you have standards. Morals. You do have feeling and hope and a sense
of justice. I don’t hate your image or your little armour toys or your skill.
I don’t even hate your ability at this job. You have feelings. Honourable
intentions. I’ll never be like you. That’s why I hate you.” Ranth didn’t have to look up to know that Queed
was gone. Vedira crawled out from under the holo-table. He
looked at the groaning forms of the others on the floor and the tall black
nightmare leaning on the table. “What
happens to me?” he whispered. Ranth didn’t look at him. “Get
out of here.” Vedira, knowing that the sanction was off and he
was legally in the clear started for the door with a huge smile on his face.
With a smug spin on his heel he turned to face Ranth. “Nice to
meet you, Mister Ranth,” he said through his wide grin. Ranth didn’t move. “Catch
you later,” he rumbled. Vedira’s smile dropped, and he ran like a whole
host of hunters were on his tail. Sanction: Off 2000 short story by
Jonathan Hicks Sixteen years after Episode IV – A
New Hope
Histories – Written by Jonathan Hicks, this tale tells of a
later meeting between the old adversaries Tarr Ranth and Queed. Set almost a quarter of a century after
the events of Black Armour, this brief encounter is another piece in the decision for Ranth to
give up his days as a bounty hunter and take up the mantle of Jedi Knighthood under the tutelage of Blake De’Athe.
Cast of Characters Tarr Ranth Queed Vedira
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