A Very Angry Man

2000 short story by Jonathan Hicks

Six years after Episode IV – A New Hope

   “Where the hell is Garr?” Goah roared. The deafening roar of blaster fire and explosions drowned him out and he had to grab Jan by the shoulder to get his attention.

The tall smuggler turned to face him, unclipping a blaster pack from his belt and taking out the empty one from his weapon. He slammed it home, primed the gun and then waited for Goah to speak.

   “I said where the hell is Garr?” Goah repeated, louder than before. His short-cropped hair, which would grow long again in a matter of days, was sweat-sheened and dusty. His rifle steamed with the effort of continuous firing.

   “Garr’s dead!” Jan shouted back. “Speeder bomb meant for me! I’m getting back up to the Fortress! One of Glann’s ships has come in and I get the feeling Predd isn’t just concentrating his attack on the city!”

Another grenade detonated to their left. Debris and dust swept over them and they cowered for a moment, letting the destruction sweep them by.

Goah slapped Jan on the shoulder.

    “Go! I’m getting some people together and we’re going to take back the starport!”

   “Be careful!” With that the smuggler leaped the wall they were using as cover and started his journey to the fortress.

It was a journey through destruction. The city of Amagad was burning in dozens of places, the darkening sky lit by explosions and laser fire, dark ships swooping in from the night and dropping plasma and proton charges into the buildings. Jan jumped rubble and bodies, dived under blaster fire and returned shots sporadically, his mind not on conflict but on getting back to Glann’s fortress. Every now and then he would see beings he knew, either firing at the enemy or lying motionless on the ground.

What the hell is Predd Jason doing, he thought wildly. Invading Amagad city? That’s ballsy, even for a crime lord. Another blaster shot seared over his shoulder and he rolled with the heat, shoulder first to the ground and then back up to his feet and into a run. He ignored the assailant and continued to push on.

What I need is...

He glanced over to see a blasted but still-hovering speeder by the side of the road. The engine sounded as though it was ticking over.

Jan smiled.

A speeder.

The Thunderchild II simply sat level in a hover, the weapons systems trained on the Policing Tower of Amagad city. The weapons pylons moved slightly and re-orientated themselves to compensate for the ship’s slight movements and continually tracked the base of the building.

   “Once again,” Ryath said down the mouthpiece of his headset, the holographic display blinking red in front of his eyes as the target was verified by his fire control system. “This is my final warning. Call off the attack or I’ll open fire.” He knew that the building was being used as a base of operations and that the chances of Predd Jason being there were high.

   “Back off, merc,” came the reply over the speaker, “Predd ain’t here and we got a mission to complete.”

   “Are you in charge?”

   “I make policy as far as this invasion goes.”

Ryath sighed heavily.

   “So do I,” he whispered.

The barrage of blaster energy and torpedoes he released was immense, the cannons blazing and the missiles racing in unison into the base of tower. The tall circular construct shuddered as the lower floors were annihilated, the streets surrounding the area obliterated in the shockwave and heat blast.

Ryath’s face changed from a narrow-eyed stare to surprise as the whole building slowly started to topple over, crashing down like a demolition victim to crush and explode over the warehouse area. He saw two of the invading ships crushed under the weight of the falling building, watched as they erupted and flung bodies in all directions. The chatter over his headset suddenly went wild, the enemy calling for instructions from their base they wouldn’t receive, panic-stricken voices shouting for orders.

Ryath watched what was left of the building burn and shrugged.

   “That’s a bonus,” he said.

Goah, along with several other gunmen he had recruited on the way to the starport, watched the crashing starship hit the ground nose-first and start to slide along the street towards them. It spewed gases and flames, tearing apart vehicles and debris that blocked its path. The others saw the approaching wreckage and shouted warnings, diving either way and trying to find cover.

Goah grabbed F’loornn, the T-headed sharpshooter, and pulled him down, knowing they wouldn’t have time to get out of the way. The Entallian yelped his surprise and followed Goah down.

The starship bounced twice, the second bounce sending it sailing over the two men, and it continued on its course to the heavily defended wall. As it started to turn over it exploded into the construct, ripping out a whole section of the building and creating a huge opening for the attackers to get through. They watched as the wall collapsed and the defenders dived for cover.

F’loornn looked at the plazooka over Goah’s shoulder he had just used to bring the starship down.

   “You did that on purpose,” he growled.

   “It solves the problem of how we’re going to get inside the starport,” Goah hissed back, throwing the spent weapon to one side and unslinging his rifle.

   “Let’s go!” he shouted, leading the men to the breach, firing at everything they didn’t recognise and other targets besides. Blaster fire criss-crossed the area as they approached, several of the shooters with Goah going down but still they pressed on, climbing the burning rubble and bringing down man after man. Several well-placed grenades took out heavy weapon positions and as they entered the hole in the wall other beings loyal to Amagad, citizens included, saw their chance and rushed in with them, the carnage and body count increasing with every moment.

Goah raised his rifle as a rallying point at the breach’s edge, a pistol in his other hand as he beckoned to the beings and gave them a simple order.

   “Kill them all!”

Tarr Ranth, who had only come to the planet to see if there was any work available, lifted his rifle and sprayed another group of attackers with blaster bolts. They jerked and twisted as they fell, some of them managing to dive for cover behind broken walls and wrecked speeders.

Somebody will get a bill for this, Ranth thought grimly. His black armour was dusty and scorched from the hour of combat but he wasn’t tired. His senses were heightened, his mind focused and his breaths coming in short bursts as he effectively controlled his body. As he dived back into the burning shop for cover he saw another man who appeared very young indeed, cowering behind the wall and trying to reload his blaster but shaking too violently to manage.

Ranth towered above him, reached down and snatched the blaster. He inserted the pack, primed the weapon and handed it back to him.

   “Come on, boy,” he said through the black visor. “I’ll get you out of here.”

   “But I’m terrified!” the youth blurted. “They’re blasting each other out there!” He moved back and Ranth saw that the man was the enemy, his armour marked with a mercenary team that was assaulting the city. Ranth leaned forward and tore the emblem from the armour. No matter what side he was on, he was just a boy and Ranth wasn’t going to let his first error of judgement be his last.

   “What do want to be?” Ranth said ominously, pulling the boy to his feet. “Scared? Or dead?”

The starship commander turned to his aide and smiled.

   “Inform Predd Jason he can start his landing as soon as we’ve taken care of the last pockets of resistance. It shouldn’t be long.”

   “They’re putting up quite a fight, sir. Reports indicate we’re the last support starship.”

The commander smiled sarcastically.

   “What are they going to do? Start throwing stones and insults at us? We control the starport. They’re getting nothing in the air.” He turned back to the viewport and suddenly forgot how to smile.

The Thunderchild II sat directly ahead, hovering like a predator sure of a kill. The commander watched as his computers lit up with target acquisition warnings and missile lock danger signs.

   “Oh, freck,” he gulped as he watched the starship fire her weapons.

Jan put his comlink to his ear, leaning down into the seat of the speeder as more blaster fire screamed past him.

   “What was that, Ryath, I didn’t copy!”

   “I said the last starship is down! We can take them!”

   “That’s real nice but I think you’d better turn your attention to the Fortress. A two assault ships have just landed.”

   “I’m on my way!”

Jan drove the speeder straight through the blasted gates of the fortress. The grounds were littered with impact craters and bodies, the building itself scored with multiple hits. He could see flashes of light in random windows as firefights raged within the halls of Glann’s home.

As he approached he saw several invaders stumble from the doors, firing back into the building as they were repelled. They had barely got to the top of the stairs as Jan arrived, having just enough time to see a wrecked speeder fly up the steps and into them. Three beings were flung over the front of the speeder and to the ground and Jan continued through them and into the main reception hall of the building.

Lawgad Greeny, obviously taking advantage of the fact that he was the Fortress’s weapons check-in officer, carried a pistol in each hand and a rifle slung over each shoulder. He used the speeder as cover, diving low as men fired from an adjoining door, and popped up to spray the area with bolts. Jan joined him in his barrage and they pushed the men back.

   “Where’s Melm?” Jan shouted.

   “Damn, everyone’s looking for everyone else!” Lawgad roared. “I don’t know!”

   “How long have you been holding out?”

   “The better part of two hours, but ships have landed on the upper floors. I think Melm took most of his people up to the guest level! Bessa’s up there!”

   “Glann’s daughter? Where are the Shadow Warriors?”

   “Out on assignments! Predd chose a good time to attack the fortress!”

Jan leaped from the speeder and looked around sharply, seeing the doors to the lift that lead to the upper floors open and the elevator apparently unoperational.

   “I’m getting up there!” Jan motioned to the lift with his blaster.

   “You’re not leaving me here on my own!” Lawgad bawled, grabbing Jan’s arm desperately.

But Jan just shook him off and ran straight for the stairs. With huge leaps he bounded up the stairs, past the laser-sealed door of level floor, and to the guest quarters. He looked around wildly, hearing blaster shots from all over and then a scream.

He leaped to the door where he heard the shout and saw that   it was one of the antique ones, mounted on hinges and open slightly. He lifted one huge booted foot and kicked it open.

Inside was Bessa Cipple, Glann’s young brown-haired daughter. Around her neck was the arm of one of the attackers who was bawling into his helmet mike that he had captured Glann’s daughter. As Jan dived in he turned, using Bessa as a shield and starting to shout something to Jan, his weapon raising.

But Jan wasn’t going to listen as he immediately raised his pistol and snapped off a single shot. The man’s forehead exploded, the impact snapping him back and out of the open window. Jan ran over to look out to make sure his adversary was definitely out of the picture and then turned to Bessa, who was shaking visibly and looking at him in shock.

   “I’m... I’m...” she stammered.

   “Don’t worry,” Jan smiled. “You look fine.”

They all fought to defend the city. But they did not know that their battle would be fought beyond this day.

The times when many people gathered in Glann’s office were few and very far between. He didn’t like so many people in his room and as he stared out at the city of Amagad, covered now as it was by huge construction sheaths and flitting service ‘droids, he drew in a long deep breath, trying to curb his anger.

The conference table he only used on special occasions had risen from the floor and settled at a pre-determined height so that the individuals he had summoned could pull seats across and make themselves comfortable. As he waited, his eyes still perusing his damaged city, he listened as the doors continually opened and closed to admit new arrivals. He could hear their voices as they approached the room and then cease as they entered.

When the scuffling and fidgeting had ceased he turned to face them all. Stepping down from his raised desk he approached the empty high-backed chair at the head of the table and threw a glowing datapad onto it. It skittered across the polished obsidian-like surface to come to a stop in the centre of the amassed. Eyes and photoreceptors stared at it, long and hard, and waited for Glann to speak.

   “Predd Jason,” Glann murmured. “This bastard tried to destroy me, destroy this city.”

Still there was silence. Melm cleared his throat, stood as he was just behind Glann’s chair, and Carlonian Feese also shifted uncomfortably on the other side of the seat. Although these two individuals were Glann’s top operatives and had his confidence they still appeared unsure of what Glann was going to do next.

   “What the hell do I pay you all for!” Glann suddenly erupted, his hand coming down so hard on the table that Melm was sure he saw a hairline crack appear across it.

   “We stopped the attack, Glann...” a small voice started to say from the far end of the table and all eyes shot towards the talker, their facial expressions shouting shut the freck up!

   “Who said that?” Glann barked, looking down to the end of the table and narrowing his eyes as he searched for the speaker. “Stand up!”

   “Me, sir,” a short scaly woman said nervously. She got to her feet, her blonde hair short cropped and untidy. She looked about the table nervously for support but found none.

   “Who are you?” Glann growled.

   “Fedra, sir, militia captain of the hangar district.”

   “And what do you have to say?”

   “I just said we stopped them, sir, before they took control.”

There were a few nods of agreement and this boosted her confidence. She drew herself up and lifted her pointed chin, her forked tongue flicking out as she stared at Glann. “We would never have let the city fall into Jason’s hands, sir.”

   “Hangar district, eh?” Glann mused. “That was blown half to pudu. The city’s greatest port for incoming traffic, captain. Care to explain that?”

Suddenly the confidence drained from her stature.

   “There... there were a lot of them, sir...”

   “Indeed,” Glann said, almost as if he fully agreed. Then he just shook his head and said, “Feese.”

The Mon Calamarian shifted quickly, his facemask glinting as he raised his rifle. The shot was loud and bright and Fedra’s lifeless form flew back over her seat and to the ground in a hail of sparks. Faces, smeared with shock, turned to face Glann and Feese’s smoking blaster.

   “Anybody else want to make a smart-butt remark?” Glann said, simply daring any and each of them. He was not surprised by the silence and the odd shaking head. The other sector captains had lost the will to add to Fedra’s comments.

   “This is intolerable,” Glann growled, his voice growing in volume as he spoke. “I spent millions getting this city closed from the galaxy and this is what happens! I disappear for a while and when I come back all I see is smoking buildings and dead bodies. And my fortress! They got into my frecking fortress!”

   “You!” Glann whirled on a non-descript information broker who jumped so violently his datapad flew from his hand. “What’s your name?”

   “It’s me, sir, Yullm...”

   “And what the hell were you doing when all this was going down, Yullm?”

   “I... I...”

   “Don’t stammer, you idiot, answer me!”

   “I was guarding the infobanks, sir!” Yullm almost shouted, shrinking further into his seat.

   “Guarding the infobanks! The most heavily armoured underground bunker in the sector and you felt the need to guard it? You?”

F’loornn, the Entallian sharpshooter who hadn’t wanted to come to the meeting but had been forced by others, looked up nervously.

   “I was popping bolts in Jason’s men at the hangar...” F’loornn faltered, his eyes flickering in the direction of the dead militia captain on the floor.

   “And where were you during all this?” Glann roared at Goah Galletti, who set his jaw firm.

   “I was killing,” he said flatly.

   “Obviously not enough!” Glann shouted.

   “Glann, I think we’d better concentrate on what we’re gonna do about it,” raised another voice from the table. Glann stared with anger at Jan Lomona. He didn’t relax his temper but he did draw in a deep breath, remembering that the tall A-desandian smuggler had saved his daughter’s life during the fight.

   “Yeah, what we gonna do about it, Glann?” said Durne Selka who was sat next to him. His face quivered as Glann turned his gaze his way.

   “Durne, what makes you think that the freedom of expression I grant to the man next to you also applies to you?”

   “It... it doesn’t, sir...”

   “Then shut the freck up!”

Glann finally sat down. Melm stepped forward and handed him a datapad that hummed into life.

   “Right,” Glann said loudly, “let’s see what this has done to us and find out if we can track Predd Jason down. I need a damage report. Yullm?”

Yullm, now reluctant to speak but knowing that he was the one with the details sat forward and retrieved his own pad.

   “Thirty percent of the city destroyed, sir. Including a lot of the hangar district and the policing tower.”

   “How he hell did we lose the policing tower?” Glann demanded.

Jan coughed to gain Glann’s attention and pointed over at Ryath Centaur who was sat over the table from him. Glann looked over.

   “They were using the tower as a base of operations,” Ryath said by way of explanation. Glann just shook his head.

   “There is such a thing as overkill, Centaur,” he mumbled and turned back to Yullm.

   “Total casualties?”

   “Just under twelve hundred.”

Glann nodded.

   “How many civilians?”

Yullm double checked his figures and coughed.

   “About ninety percent.”

   “Well, get some aid and compensation packages together. I don’t want to screw up my chances for re-election.”

Some of the amassed looked at each other sardonically as if to say, oh, right, like you’re not going to get re-elected.

   “The enemy. Who the hell were they and how did Jason get so many men together? Centaur?”

Ryath Centaur, a well respected mercenary in the sector, leaned forward.

   “Mercenaries from outside the sector, mostly, although I did recognise Dark Star and Glowing Ember colours. Most of them were just pay-as-you-go and probably took part through promises of bounty and spoils. Well-equipped.”

   “Find out some more details Centaur, get me contract details if you can. Well-equipped, you say? Any leads off that? F’loornn?”

F’loornn raised his long-fingered hand.

   “They were all using blasters from a the same armoury, no identification stamps. Good quality blasters.”

Glann nodded to F’loornn.

   “Get in touch with Grabby Cap on Chancai and see if he knows of any major weapons shipments over the last few months.”

   “What if it was Grabby who supplied them?” Jan put in with a hint of worry in his voice.

   “Then he’ll die,” Glann snapped.

   “Glann, you can’t just kill everyone who might have had something to do with it,” Jan said, his hand sweeping in the direction of Fedra.

   “Yeah?” Glann returned, his eyes burning. Jan let it go and looked over at Centaur who returned his gaze evenly. They both shook their heads imperceptibly and looked away.

   “The ships they used,” Glann moved on quickly. “Anything on them? Romanoe?”

   “Freelance freighters but some were the mercenary’s own,” Romanoe held up his hand and spoke up clearly. His voice started to get quieter and quieter as Glann gazed upon him. “Some modifications for surface assault and engine improvements,” he finished quickly so that the attention would move away from him.

   “Any of the freelancers get off-planet?”

   “Yeah, quite a few,” Romanoe said.

   “Right. Goah, find them and kill them. Make it public and messy and make sure people know what to expect if they help my enemies. What about prisoners?”

   “Fifty-eight,” Melm said in his deep voice. “Some suicided to avoid capture.”

   “Loyalists?”

   “Cowards.”

   “Execute the rest. Feese? Anything on their support?”

   “Nothing,” Feese rasped through his facemask. “There were several satellites off-line during the attack. They came at us through a blind spot. I think the sat operator may have been bribed.”

   “Why?”

   “The sudden appearance of thirty thousand in his account. The idiot invested it in your Interest Society. We keep tabs on personnel accounts and when his bloomed it stuck out like a sore tentacle.”

   “Right. Kill him. Actually, no, kill his family first, let him run about for a couple of weeks so that he can tell people what happens when you double-cross me and then kill him.”

Again Jan and Ryath’s eyes met and this time they raised their eyebrows. Glann was upset.

   “So, how did a fleet of...?” Glann looked at Yullm expectantly.

   “Er... thirty.”

   “Thirty ships get this close to my city and not get noticed? Lomona?”

The smuggler shrugged.

   “I reckon they used one of the routes we don’t use anymore because of the Imperial Garrison on the other side of the planet. The commander of the base must have thought it was one of your little goings-on and turned a blind one.”

   “Which is exactly what I pay him to do,” Glann shook his head and sucked in another deep breath. “Find out how they got about undetected, any routes they used beyond the system.”

   “I’ll try, but...”

   “But what?”

   “You’re not going to kill my contacts, are you?”

Glann looked over at Jan with impatience.

   “My daughter is alive. I thank you for that. Don’t push it!”

Jan lifted his hands and just feigned surrender.

Glann got to his feet and walked around his seat.   He had his hands clasped behind his back and he stared out of the window at the darkening sky. A construction ‘droid flew past and this only increased his anger further.

   “Predd Jason hurt me,” Glann said in low, resonant voice that exuded menace. “He hurt me very badly. He had the audacity to come to my door and try to force me out. He had the impertinence to kill my people and destroy my city. I want him. I want him badly and I want all of you to use whatever resources you have to find him. Rates are doubled from every lead and clue. He’ll pay for what he did to me. I hear that he wants to play it big in the Setnin Sector. Well, by the gods...”

 Glann whirled and jammed a pointing finger to the floor.

   “... I am the Setnin Sector!”

He glared about the table and saw all the faces looking at him with the knowledge that he wasn’t posturing. He was telling the absolute truth.

Glann waved his hand and the meeting was over.

The clutter in the corridor was annoying to Jan as he pushed through the crowds. ‘Droids at work, servitors scurrying past and through all this the members of the meeting were trying to get out of the fortress as fast as possible.

Jan caught up with Ryath and grabbed him by the arm and pulled him to one side.

   “Whoah, the big G has really blown his top this time,” Jan said, wide-eyed and grim.

   “Predd just stabbed him in the heart,” Ryath shook his head. “I’d be growling, too.”

   “What you gonna do?”

   “I’m going to get him his info but I’ll be damned if I run for him. He’ll just use me and my teams as a slaughter factory to settle his own revenge and I’m not in that line of work. You?”

   “Oh, I’ll put the word out but there’s no way on this globe I’m going to tell him who I’ve talked to. He’ll be popping guys off left, right and centre. I’m going to call in a couple of favours, get some data for him, but I’m not going to leave a string of people for him send Goah after... hey, Goah!”

The man Jan called out to walked over, appearing strange without the weapons he had been forced to leave at the check-in desk before entering the fortress, and nodded to Ryath.

   “Goah,” Jan looked at him, “Where are you off to now?”

   “Interrogate some of the captives before Melm kills them, chase a couple of leads. Why?”

   “Look, why don’t we pool resources? I’ve got some contacts to call that might know what happened, might be able to help you out...”

   “Fine,” Goah started to walk away. “Call me.”

   “Mister happy disposition is in his element,” Ryath said as he watched the assassin walk away. “I thought you said you didn’t want bodies everywhere? Why did you just ask Goah for help?”

   “Oh, I need some... competition... removing. I may as well kill two gundarks with one rock, so to speak.”

   “Do you see advantage in every situation?” Ryath asked with a wide smile.

   “Hey, in this job every advantage is... well...”

   “An advantage?”

Jan let out a laugh.

   “I didn’t exactly want to repeat myself, but, yeah.”

   “I suppose situations like this call for every advantage you can get. It’ll get worse before it gets better.”

Jan and Ryath mused over the words and then headed for the turbolift.

Melm tapped at his datapad, pretending not to notice as Glann looked at the city and then at the huge map of the sector spread out before him, shimmering in all it’s holographic glory.

He pretended to work and did his best to ignore Glann’s whisper.

   “Mine. All mine.”

Histories – Based on the 1990 roleplay scenario, this short story tells of Predd Jason’s failed invasion of Amagad City.  Featuring many of the prime Setnin characters, this shows Glann Cipple at his angriest and most vengeful.

Cast of Characters

Glann Cipple

Jan Lomona

Ryath Centaur

Carlonian Feese

Goah Galletti

Melm

Tarr Ranth

F’loornn

Bessa Cipple

Lawgad Greeny

Yullm

Durne Selka

Fedra

Romanoe