|
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 |