Centennial

2000 story by Jonathan Hicks, Mark Newbold, Paul Squire and Louis Turfrey

Three years after Episode IV – A New Hope

Tarr Ranth

It’s quiet.  Too quiet.

I analyse this thought. Why am I so nervous? My armour. It’s on Jans’ ship. I feel naked without it, even though I’m wearing the thoracic armour under my tunic. It gives me a slightly overweight appearance, which melds with my disguise as an old space cowboy. Only my weapons give my potential away.

I hear footsteps approaching and two individuals appear around the corner to my right. I still have that nagging feeling that I’m being watched. I scan the buildings around me, my senses alert to anything out of the ordinary.

They’re less than three meters away from me now and they both look nervous. Good. That’ll make them easier to herd should there be trouble.

Why did I take this job on? Morality? Do I believe in the Rebellion? Hardly. I simply prefer to support the underdog, until such a time as he gets in my way. I wonder if my attitude will ever change. Time will tell.

I nod towards the two men, who look at me dubiously. They don’t recognise me under all this make-up. Good. They hired a man in a suit, no names, just reputation and recommendation. I like that sort of deal. No one to chase if things go wrong.

   “Gentlemen, if you’ll walk this way, I have arranged a quick entry on to the ship.” The one called Sheu looks like he’s about to bolt. I signal for Jan on our prearranged frequency. There is a brief beep of response as the hangar doors are unlocked and then I wait.

The rain of shots comes in high and wide, I push my charges back against the door of the hanger, wedging them in to the corner by the control panel and placing my body between them and their assailants.

   “Get as low as you can without exposing yourselves!” I yell, as I launch myself at a nearby speeder and start to return fire. The shots are coming from the top of a four-story building nearby. I reach around my back and bring out a small blaster rocket, attach it to the mount on the front of my rifle and aim it at the building. I hear the creak of the doors as they start to open and Jan is shouting at my charges. My concentration is on the roof only, and I fire the blaster. The rocket arches up and just falls past its intended targets. There is a small explosion and two men fly over the top of the building. They land with a sickening thud on the ground below.

As I back off towards the hanger, laying down covering fire, the two remaining shooters open fire again. The doors begin to close as I duck back in to the hanger, just in time to see a third series of blasts head towards the closing doors. I curse to myself, desperately trying to twist myself around to block the blaster fire with my thoracic armour.

Too late.

There is a cry from somebody behind me and a curse from Jan.

The doors close.

I run towards the two men.  The one called Sheu is lying on the ground. As I approach Hevell, the ones the Rebels really want, is whispering to Sheu.

   “I’ll not forget this.  I owe you.”

Jan and I help the injured man on to the Berone Sunrise and within a couple of minutes we are airborne. I throw a medpac at the one called Hevell and yell at him to apply it, all the while running for the cockpit.

The ship shudders under the impact of blaster fire. I look at the scopes as I run into the cockpit and notice that Imperial TIE fighters are chasing us.

   “What, no trademark spin?”

Jan looks at me and grins.

   “Don’t want them recognising me.” I start to input the coordinates for the hyperspace jump with the assistance of Lomona’s droid, whilst Jan dodges the blasts and the fighters. Within moments we are scooting into hyperspace.

Jan Lomona

I sometimes think that if I ever get more than a month away from Chancai I’ll develop some weird disease that will drag me back.  This place gets more like home every day.

Take today for instance.  I’ve arranged to meet up with Tarr Ranth, a bounty hunter I’ve worked with a few times before, to ferry some guys’ off-planet.  No names, no questions, just like they always prefer.  And being the sensitive, tactful guy that I am I ask no questions.  Well, just a couple perhaps.

How much and when?

I could see Ranth prowling outside the Sunrise, masked by some strange disguise that made him look less like a man and more like a freak.  We’d arranged a frequency to keep contact on, just in case the situation went belly up and we had to bail quickly.  And in a city like Chancai that was more than a distinct possibility.  Ranth was a wily campaigner.  He’d seen enough of the galaxy to know the dangers and how to avoid them.  And even though he’d left his powerful Mandalorian armour onboard my ship he was still well protected.  The guy was a weapon in himself.

Still, the thought of blasting off and selling the armour had crossed my mind on more than one occasion.

Ranth turned back to the cockpit and nodded as he exited the hangar.  I saluted and turned back into the ship, the comm active, waiting for his signal to prepare for a swift takeoff.  I always kept the Sunrise in a constant state of readiness and Aurran my droid was always on hand to warm her up for me in an emergency.  Neither the ship or my old droid had let me down.  And I had the feeling as the hairs on the back of my neck bristled that I’d need that readiness today.

Our prearranged frequency buzzes as Ranth signals me to prepare the Sunrise.  I respond with a single beep and auto-unlock the hangar doors as I motion to Aurran to warm her up and signal the Portmaster that we need clearance for takeoff. 

Then I heard the blaster fire.  A flurry of shots just outside the doors.  I can just make out Ranth yelling at our passengers to take cover and I decide, against my better judgement, to get out there and check out what’s happening.  I grab Aurran by the shoulder.

   “Get her warmed and ready to go.  We’ve got a live one here.”

   “Consider it done Master Jan.”  He replied in his usual flat tone as I sprinted down the ramp and towards the heavy doors.  The blaster fire wasn’t getting any less furious and I opened the doors and poked my head outside. The two guys were packed into the doorway and I yelled at them to follow me but the blaster fire was deafening and they couldn’t make out what I was saying.   Then I saw two of the attackers come flying off the roof and crunch into the ground.  Ranth was as good as his reputation.  Ranth had taken a position behind a nearby speeder and was laying down covering fire as the doors began to slowly close.  I paused, aimed with my blaster and prepared to join Ranth in a defensive barrage as he moved back to the doors when he twisted around.  I didn’t register what he was trying to do until the larger of the two men threw himself in front of the other and took the blaster bolt aimed at the smaller first man.  I could only guess that it was the instinctive action of a bodyguard and I cursed in ancient A-desandian as he cried out and the doors finally closed.  The smaller man leaned in to his fallen bodyguard and whispered to him.

   “I’ll not forget this.  I owe you.”

   “Come on guys.”  I said.  “This is no time to get all mushy, we’ve got a freighter to catch.”  I hoisted the injured man to his feet and threw his arm across my shoulders as Ranth took the other arm.  Aurran had the ship hot and ready to go and by the time we’d climbed the ramp she was hovering above the ground, ready to exit.  I slammed into the cockpit seat and powered her up to maximum, dodging through the swarms of traffic that always filled the exit and entry points of Chancai, no matter what the time.

Lucky I was such an expert on the place.

I took the portside lane of the tunnel where the larger bulk transports regularly drifted down.  In my more manoeuvrable stock heavy I was able to avoid these ships and edge towards our escape, and the credits that waited.  I could hear Ranth throw a med pack at the uninjured man and join me in the cockpit.  I glanced down at the display as we finally blasted out of the traffic tunnel and into open skies.  Dammit, we’d got company.

   “We’ve got company.”  I said as we took the first hit from a batch of TIE fighters that had been alerted to my classic but risky piloting skills.  Ranth surveyed the scopes and checked visually.

   “What, no trademark spin?”

I grinned and turned to him as my mind thought of a million reasons why I hadn’t spun the ship.

   “Don’t want them recognising me.”

Ranth moved to the Astrogation panel and with Aurran’s help inputted the co-ordinates that would safely get us away from Chancai and into hyperspace.  It took few brief minutes of dodging and twisting but we finally make it into the edges of the atmosphere and soon we were clear of the gravity well and able to jump.  With a final twist I pulled back the lever and streaked for safety.

Chancai.  That place is gonna be the death of me…

Goah Galletti

This is not my usual method. Watching? Observing? I kill. I do not stalk. I fight. I do not hide.

Why I am watching the two men walking slowly across the road to the hangar bay entrance and not actively taking part in their extraction or execution is unknown to me. I know that it is Jan Lomona's ship in the hangar. I also know that the men have hired a gunman to help them get off-planet in case things go awry. Not much happens in the Setnin Sector without Glann's knowledge.

The hired gunman is watching the street and I know he is wary, expecting trouble. There are thick crowds on Chancai, celebrating the centennial of the founding of the official Setnin Council, and many unknown faces walk the streets. It makes all us professionals nervous. A public relations stunt has bought unwanted new blood into the sector, hoping to make names for themselves, and the competition is fierce. The sector is infamous, but actually facing that infamy can be deadly, as many of these new arrivals would find.

Even though I zoom in with my rifle scope I do not recognise him which is perplexing. I know all faces and names of 'undesirables' in case I have to kill them. He looks about nervously as if my scrutiny has alerted him but I continue to watch.

The men approach and he nods to them, saying a few words and motioning to the hangar. The men appear nervous as the gunman activates a communicator the hangar doors unlock.

The sudden blaze of laser fire is surprising but not unexpected. The gunman pushes the arrivals into the corner by the hangar as I sweep my sight up to see where the shots are coming from. Four men in a four-storey building across the street, an excellent vantage point, firing from an elevated position on exposed targets.

I know two of them. Two new Imperial Security Bureau agents made known to Glann by his contact on Chancai, two of the new faces I speak of in the Setnin Sector. Their fire is erratic, their first chance at an ambush ruined by their incompetence. They were investigators and fought their wars with datapads and snarls. They probably hadn't used a blaster since the academy. My first instinct is to fire, squeezing the trigger of my pulse blaster but then relaxing as I remember my orders.

Watch. Observe.

As I hear the hangar doors start to open I lower my scope and watch the action without the need for visual aid. The gunman has produced a rifle with a projectile attachment as he takes cover behind a speeder and he fires it into the building with remarkable accuracy. Two men, the ISB agents, are flung from the building and to the street from the explosion and the other two take their place. They have met infamy. They have paid the price for their ineptness.

Then there is a cry from the hangar as one of the men is hit - but I do not see how the blaster shot could have come from the ISB position. He is covered by the door, out of sight of the ISB vantage point, and I immediately assume there is another shooter somewhere. I scan the area but see nothing.

The hangar doors are closed, now, and I hear the Berone Sunrise bring her engines to full power. The ISB agents are shouting down their comlinks and I aim again at their heads. Once again my orders seep into my brain.

Watch. Observe.

Doing this I see another figure. He is armoured and effectively keeping out of sight of the ISB agents, looking directly at me as he recedes into the darkness and disappears from view. Ryath Centaur, if I'm not mistaken. Was he the other shooter or had I miscalculated the angle? Interesting.

I know he has seen me. Unfortunate. My standard procedure is that if I am seen I kill all non-innocent activists. But I am here to watch. Observe.

It's time to report to Glann. I do not know why he wanted this altercation observed but I obey, I do not question. He knew that he was taking a risk, asking me not to get involved. He threatened me with reduced pay if I interfered.

I think of my orders again as I watch the ISB agents begin to pack their equipment so they can make a quick exit. With a shrug I lower my rifle and take aim at their heads.

What the freck. They're Imperial scum. Glann can bill me.

Ryath Centaur

The warm rush of impatience courses through my veins as I see them.  Four men, all human.  All dressed the same, too.  The holdalls don’t match the jackets, but then I’d never been impressed with the initiative of the Imperial Security Bureau.  Seems their MO hadn’t changed since I’d left the Emperor’s service either.

The urge to take them out is palpable, and I feel my grip tighten on my rifle, but I’ve other business here.  A promise to keep, and my blood boils again - my hatred threatening to take control.

The ISB wasn’t here by accident – seems my source was a little too prolific with his information, but that’s no surprise.  If he’d sought me out to be a pawn in his plans, then he’d be using others too.  But the ISB agents are a delay I can ill afford; my window of opportunity is too small.

I take a chance and step into the bustle of the street. No one seems to take too much notice of me.  Just one more bounty hunter, they reckon; a common enough sight in the Setnin Sector, even at its heart. 

Chancai and Zelon.  One the city, the other its planet, but I’d heard people confuse the two too often for me not to realise that the life’s blood of the Sector runs through this place. 

Everything runs through it; even my prey.

The crowds jostle me as I move across the street.  Everyone’s in a good mood; ready for the celebrations.  The splash of colours, the heady vapours, a multitude of sounds from the strange assortment of species pouring in from the ‘port, all conspire to set my nerves on edge.  Xenophobia was part of my training, and even now, seeing all these lesser creatures, turns my stomach. 

I catch myself at the thought.  Before…before making my promise, I’d thought differently about a great many things.  I’d assumed my experiences over the last few years would have changed me, but maybe I’ve changed even less than the ISB?

The shadows of the alley greet me like an old friend, and I wrap the darkness about me as I carefully pick my way back towards the killing ground.

At the sound of the first shot I pick up my pace, raging ripping through my caution, the bitter taste of fear on my tongue.

If I’m too late…

Blaster fire spits from the fourth floor of a trading company’s office, tearing up the back street and gouging junks out of the sturdy doors of the hanger beyond.  Imperial agents after my target, and using the vantage point I’d chosen…?  The irony fails to impress me – though the missile one of the targets fires into their midst brings a brief smile to my face.

The lull lasts just a heartbeat, but it’s enough for the ‘missile man’ to hustle the two others through the hanger doors and towards whatever smuggler ship is waiting to run the gauntlet of Chancai’s shipping lanes.  That it would be practically suicide to fly through the tunnel with all the traffic visiting the city for the celebrations was little conciliation.  By my Emperor’s Oath, I’d see that scum dead by my hands and by no other’s, but time was running out.

And that’s when he saw me. 

I stared into those fear filled eyes and saw the recognition in them. 

He knew I was after him, had seen my image before.  I was closer now, but close enough…?

The hanger doors were cycling shut, threatening to hide my prey as I brought my rifle up, but there was time for one shot, and my fingers caressed the trigger of my blaster.

He saw it coming, he couldn’t tear his eyes away, and yet he had the survival instincts of a Womp rat.  A sudden change of direction, a desperate move to interject his companion between him and me; let someone else take the fall.

But he wasn’t fast enough.

The shot caught him across the face, sent him tumbling away, but I spat a curse.  A glancing blow, nothing more, but it was still good enough to mark him.  A scarred man was easier to track, and I’d hunt Sheu down.  Wherever he runs, whomever he hides behind, I’d find him again. 

The two remaining ISB agents disappear from sight.  There’ll be a detachment of troops here soon, and questions asked. 

No one likes the ISB.

The flicker of a shadow within a shadow catches my attention, and a shiver runs down my spine.  Goah Galletti, assassin for Setnin’s biggest boss, watching.  Questions fill my mind, but they’re irrelevant.  Neither of us moves for a heartbeat, and then I turn to go.  A second later and two short shots punctuate the back street, leaving only questions behind for the authorities to ponder over.

I reaffirm my promise to my dead brother as I head back towards my ship, and make another to Sheu Ho-Travi.

“Blood demands blood.  I’ll not forget this.  I owe you.”

Histories – The 100^th story to appear on Star Wars – Lightsabre and the first to be co-written by the four participating members.  Set just after the events of Jan Lomona and the Sirens of Amagad, this shows the sectors four prime operators – Jan Lomona, Goah Galletti, Ryath Centaur and Tarr Ranth all working on the same mission but from different angles.  Also noteworthy is the fact that this is the first story to be written by Mark Newbold and Jonathan Hicks since the NHP stories of the 80’s/early 90’s.

Cast of Characters

Goah Galletti

Jan Lomona

Ryath Centaur

Tarr Ranth

Aurran

Sheu Ho-Travi

Hevell Doreesh