|
Chancai Whispers 2001 short story by Mark
Newbold Eight years after Episode
IV – A New Hope Chancai, Level Eight,
Chancai Hardball Stadium “How come things like this don’t happen
to the unpopular guys?” Drawled Jan
Lomona through split lips as another blow crashed into his face. The Barabel pulled back his swollen fist
and shook it, the crack on Lomonas jaw hurting him almost as much as it did
the dazed A-desandian. Jan slumped in
his bonds, the tight cargo strapping cutting into his circulation and turning
his extremities a dangerous shade of red.
The Barabel wound up for another punch, but before he could administer
it the soft touch of a female hand on his shoulder stopped him “No Plinth, I think Captain Lomona has
taken enough of a beating for one day.”
She moved from behind the Barabel and stood before Jan as he painfully
lifted his head to see where the sweet voice was coming from. “Haetzi?
Wha’…what the hell is this?”
He struggled in his bindings but to little avail. “Hey, now this ain’t about our little
dinner date is it, ‘cause if it is, I was gonna call you know.” He raised his eyebrows in an ironic
fashion. “’Course, I’ve been a bit
busy lately…” Haetzi
folded her arms across her chest and cocked her head in a sweet approximation
of someone who believed what she was hearing. “Now Jan, why would I let that upset
me? We had a wonderful evening, and
you were everything I was told you would be.” Huh? Where’d she hear about that, the Chancai
Express? I’m gonna have words with
that cub reporter… “So what’s with the cargo strapping and
the Barabel? What we had was fun, but
bondage and threesomes are usually a joint decision.” Haetzi
leaned in towards Jan, so close he could smell her subtle perfume and see the
glint of silver flecked through her platinum eyes. Now I remember why I risked my neck spending the night with
her. “I agree, but don’t you think it’s time
for a little honesty yourself?” She
stepped back. “Come on, you don’t
really expect me to believe that I became your latest conquest just to
satisfy your libido?” She spun on her
heel, arms wide, the massive Chancai Hardball Stadium echoing to her
laughter. “I’m Haetzi Pocock for gods
sake! Jomobol Pocock’s niece. You must have had an ulterior
motive for seducing me.” Me
seduce you? You were on me like a
Mynock on a power generator! “Haetzi, what can I say. It was lonely on Corvela, the job was
finished and we were both kind of…there.”
He lifted his head again and drew a deep breath. “But there was no other reason.” He smiled his warmest, most genuine
smile. “Honest.” The
Barabel slammed another blow into Jan’s stomach before Haetzi even had the
chance to order it. Jan spat blood
and gasped for breath. She slinked
towards him and grabbed a handful of hair, yanking his head upwards. His vision blurred, she looked even more
like an angel than she did on Corvela.
Remind me again, who’s the liar here? “Plinth is taking you to the Red Star
Hotel on Level Seven. You’ll spend
the night there resting, and by the morning I want to know who you were
working for and what you were doing.
And if I don’t hear answers that satisfy me,” She nodded to Plinth who
yanked the heavy pole that Jan was tied to out of the ground the lifted it
over his shoulder, with Jan still tied painfully to it. “Then you’ll be taking a one-way trip down
the main access shaft. From Level
Twenty-seven.” Jan
Lomona grimaced as he was carried away, too weak to struggle against his
bindings and too dazed to think of a plan. How
come things like this don’t happen to the unpopular guys? Chancai, Level Seven, Red
Star Hotel, Reception “Was that Jan Lomona?” Bozz Yoon asked himself as he caught a
glimpse of a huge, black-skinned Barabel carry a slumped figure through the
side entrance of the Red Star Hotel and into the cargo lift that led to the
upper rooms. He skirted from around
the side of his desk, clicking his long tongue and strode to the lift, but by
the time he’d turned the corner the lift was shut and ascending. He paused and scratched his head with his
clawed hand. It couldn’t
have been Jan. He’s supposed to be on
Wennicas, sorting out some business with Predd Jason. At least, that’s what Grin said. He slowly returned to his desk, but
the nagging itch of doubt refused to settle.
He flicked a switch on his console. “Tighten up the security. We may have a situation here.” Chancai, Level Seven, Red
Star Hotel, Fourth Floor “You want to get this pole off me
now? It’s not like I’m gonna dance
for you.” Jan
raised his eyebrows at the Barabel as he continued to bounce up and down on
the soft bed that Plinth had tossed him onto. As he came to rest the Barabel whipped out a pair of bolt
cutters and removed the cargo strapping from Jans sore wrists. “Thanks.
Plinth, isn’t it?” The
Barabel turned its back and busied himself with something in the corner of
the small room. Jan shrugged his
shoulders and continued to rub at the redness on his wrists. He checked through the window. Down on Level Seven, natural light was an
alien concept, especially here in the centre of the Trade Centre. Jan was treated to a view of an Assallam
Assemblies Stock Light rising past the window towards the freedom of space. Lucky frecker, thought Lomona. I need a plan, and quick. “So, you gonna talk my ears off all night
or what?” Jan asked the Barabel’s
broad back, which refused to acknowledge his existence. “I mean, you’ve taken the strapping off,
so what now? Arm wrestling
competition? Game of Sabacc,
tri-point – “ “You talk a lot, don’t you.” Stated Plinth in a manner that indicated
that he would dearly like the room to not be echoing with the voice of Jan
Lomona. Jan smiled. “Got to do something with my time.” He sat straight on the bed and planted his
hands on his knees. “So come on
Plinth. What does Pocock really
want?” The
Barabel turned and fixed Jan with a hard glare. “That’s Miss Pocock to you, and
don’t forget it.” Lomona
shook his head and frowned. “Not her, Jomobol. That girl’s got the style but she ain’t
got the guile.” Jan fixed the Barabel
with a meaningful stare of his own.
“What’s the real deal here?” Plinth
softened his angry glare and turned to face Jan head on. Lomona remained impassive, not allowing
himself to be intimidated by the shorter but much heavier-built alien. “I was told that you were good at
deception.” He sat next to Jan. “But not quite so good.” Jan remained impassive, so Plinth
continued. “On Corvela, when you and
Miss Pocock managed to slip past me and hire the speeder to go into town.” Jan
nodded in remembrance. “Yeah, that was a tough move to make. For
a big guy you’ve sure got attention for small details. So?” “We had word that you were on planet,
finishing a deal that Cipple had started.
He sent you to complete it.
Something big.” “You might say that. It’s a wrap now, but yeah, it was a good
deal.” Plinth
paused. “You’re known for wrapping deals
alone. Without the need for back-up.” Jan
smiled and rocked on the bed. The
reputation precedes me again. “That’s right. Kept me in credits for a few years now.” Plinth
squinted as he scrutinised Lomona. “So why was Carlonian Feese there?” Jan
rolled his eyes and closed them, rubbing his face in a weary motion. Feese.
Bane of my life. Well, one of them. “That is a whole other story pal.” Said Lomona in a fashion that indicated
that he had no intention of divulging it. Plinth
raised Lomona’s custom heavy blaster and pointed it at Jan’s head. “You’ve got plenty of time to tell it.” Chancai, Level Seven, Red
Star Hotel, Reception “Miss Pocock, as always it’s a pleasure
to accommodate you.” Bozz Yoon smiled
his reptilian smile and handed the access key to Haetzi, who accepted it with
a thin smile. “Thank you Bozz. The pleasure is all mine.” She spun on her heel and walked to the
turbo lift that would take her to the fourth floor of this levels Red Star
Hotel, one of a number on Chancai.
Bozz watched her leave and thoughtfully played with his tie. What’s the niece of one of the sectors
most powerful ganglords doing in this hotel?
Level Seven isn’t the height of opulence, and she’s a rich bitch with
a taste for the finer things in life.
He acknowledged two grimy-looking operators as they approached the
desk and smiled as they realised who was serving them. Something doesn’t add up. “Can I help you gentlebeings?” “Twin room, fourth floor.” The first man looked around the reception
with a swift glance. “And keep it
quiet. We’re…” He paused as he eyed
his colleague. “…Keeping our heads
down.” Bozz
smiled and nodded as he handed them the check-in documents. “Sir, discretion is my middle name.” Corvela, Kentz City, one
month previously Jan
Lomona stirred in his sleep as Carlonian Feese peered into the window,
sixteen floors above the harsh streets of Kentz City on the mountainous world
of Corvela. There was no love lost
between Feese and Lomona, but despite Feese’s professional respect for Lomona
he despised being sent out to this world on the edge of the Soluman Delta
Gulf. And for what? To tail Lomona as he completed a deal that
was already complete, or to keep him out of Cipples admittedly thinning
hair? The Mon Calamarian wasn’t sure,
but whichever it was he was in no mood to…what was it Tarr Ranth always said?
Oh yes, baby sit. Carlonian
Feese was nobody’s baby sitter. Feese
looked below at the deluge of speeders that swept through the narrow streets
and checked his footing. Inside he
could see Lomona turn and open his eyes.
The soundproofed glazing kept all sounds within, but Feese was sure
that Lomona was talking to someone.
Probably another one-night stand, snarled Feese to himself. For a man who professed to be in love with
Frans Latka, Lomona was certainly free with his affections. And as Feese saw it, those affections were
regularly directed towards other women. Feese
gripped the edge of the wall and peered closer, hugging the wall as a
security speeder swept by, flashlights spraying over the upper reaches of the
Red Star Hotel. He narrowed his eyes
as his expectations were confirmed – a woman, and a young one at that. No more than her early twenties, and
lithe. For a human. Feese held little interest in women of any
species, even his own, but he had learned to spot a beautiful woman. Like the ability to fast draw, or knife
throw, or fight hand-to-hand he had learned that beauty could be a deadly
weapon. And it was Lomona’s apparent
inability to say no to a pretty face that had made him a security risk. Feese thought so, as did Glann Cipples
security chief Melm. Only Cipples
faith in the A-desandian had kept him in his position as his number one
smuggler. Had Feese had his way he’d
have been worm food years ago. The
woman moved towards the bed and handed Lomona a glass, easing herself onto
the edge of the bed and leaning in towards him. Feese frowned and then opened his eyes wide with surprise. It couldn’t possibly be her. Even Lomona wasn’t that stupid. He wouldn’t cross Cipple, after all the
years of loyalty. “What am I saying?” Asked Feese of himself. “Of course he would.” Steadying
himself, he gripped the barrel of his rifle and swung it towards the window,
hitting it in the precise place that would crack it enough to force
entry. It was something he had done a
hundred times, and his experience served him well. The glass split apart neatly and Carlonian Feese entered the
room, weapon at the ready. Lomona
rolled across the bed, reaching for his blaster but made little progress as
the huge figure of Plinth the Barabel came crashing into the room, a look of
furious anger etched into his features.
Feese looked at Plinth, Plinth at his employer Haetzi Pocock, Haetzi
at Jan with a look of shock and annoyance on her face and Jan at Feese. Jan broke the silence. “My sixth sense is telling me this isn’t
a social call.” Chancai, Level Seven, Red
Star Hotel, Fourth Floor “You in?” “All set. So, what’s the play?” The
first man checked his watch and scratched his forehead. “Get in there and find out what the hell
Lomona is playing at. I mean, where
the hell was he earlier?” He frowned
and checked his blaster. “The boss’ll
be angry if we don’t go back with some kind of explanation.” The
second man raised his eyebrows in agreement. “Yeah, and you know how he gets when he’s
angry.” The
first rubbed his shoulder, the flaky itch of synth-flesh peeling away from
the laser-whip wound he’d received as punishment for his last failed mission. “I know exactly how he gets.” He rubbed the plasti-blast between his
fingers. “Let’s get to work.” Chancai, Level Seven, Red
Star Hotel, Fourth Floor “So that’s what happened. Like I told you before you kidnapped me,
it’s not my fault.” Plinth
shook his head, and for a brief second Lomona actually thought that he
believed him. But, like politics, a
second could be a long time and Plinth narrowed his eyes and shot Lomona a
venomous glare. “You expect me to believe that? Being so tall must have starved your brain
of oxygen.” Jan
blew out an annoyed breath and shook his head. “Look, contrary to whatever spiel Feese
has spun, he was there because Glann wanted him out of the way. I don’t know why he sent him to follow
me. As far as I know he’s never
tailed me before, but he did and that’s that.” Jan stood to his feet, Plinth following a second later. Lomona stood in front of the wall and
turned to lean against it. He could
feel vibrations, as if something was tapping away at the other side, and
sensing danger he stepped across the room swiftly… Just
as the wall exploded. “Whathehell!!” Yelled Plinth as plaster and fittings
sprayed around the apartment. Jan
frowned as two men entered the room, blasters at the ready and serious
expressions across their faces. Jan
paused and cocked his head. “Well come in why don’t you.” “Save it Lomona. You’re coming with us.” “No he’s not.” The
four turned at the sound of a soft but firm female voice. Haetzi Pocock. Jan grinned and shook his head incredulously. “Baby, if you’re trying to make a point
then it’s made.” “Well let me make my point.” The
five turned to see Bozz Yoon standing in the doorway, four security men
flanking him, weapons at the ready.
Jan rubbed his temples. “Okay, now I’m confused. What the hell is going on here?” The
two new entrants to the room, via the wall, raised their blasters towards
Lomona. “You’re coming with us. You know how the boss hates liars and
cheats.” Jan
turned to face them. “Listen guys, I don’t even know who you
are. What boss?” “Don’t play dumb with us Lomona.” “I can think of better games to play than
this, believe me.” He looked at
Haetzi. “You mind explaining?” “I thought the torture and the kidnapping
made my stance crystal clear. I want
to know why you…seduced me on Corvela, and what you were trying to
find out.” Jan
swallowed. “I seduced you because you were
there. Why have you got such a hard
time believing that? You’re a
beautiful woman, I was a lonely if over-stimulated guy, there was a free room
at the hotel…” He trailed off. “Have
I got to paint you a picture?” Bozz
Yoon stepped into the room and nodded towards the two gunmen who still waited
in the cracked, ragged hole that was previously a wall. “So, you two. What’s your story?” “We work for – “ began the first, but a
nudge to the ribs from the second man silenced him. “Forget it.” He motioned towards Jan.
“If he doesn’t remember then he doesn’t deserve to know.” He paused. “But know this. The
boss won’t be pleased, and when he catches up with you, you’ll wish you’d not
crossed him.” “Who?” Growled Jan in exasperation, but the two men were already
stepping back into their room. Two of
Yoon’s security guards made to follow, but Bozz stopped them as the men stepped
onto the window ledge and silently leapt off, free-falling from the seventh
level into hard, painful deaths. They
all stood in silence for a moment, taking in what had just happened. Haetzi and Plinth moved to take her
belongings, and as she passed Jan he gently took her arm. “Honestly Haetzi. It was just one night. Nothing more, nothing less.” “I bet you say that to all the
girls.” She snarled as she wrenched
herself free and strode out of the room, the Barabel Plinth in tow. Jan turned to his friend Bozz Yoon and
grinned. “I do, actually.” Chancai Whispers 2001 short story by Mark
Newbold Eight years after Episode
IV – A New Hope Histories – Jan
Lomona, philandering again and
getting both himself and his colleagues into trouble. This Mark Newbold story shows Jans
infidelity getting him into trouble, and impacting on others who work
alongside him, like Carlonian
Feese. Also, the story introduces Haetzi Pocock, niece of Jomobol and a player many years later during the New
Underworld Age. Cast of Characters Jan Lomona Haetzi Pocock Plinth Bozz Yoon Carlonian Feese |