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Dirty Work 2000 short story by
Jonathan Hicks Nine years after Episode
IV – A New Hope With every step a branch would swoop out of the
night and swat Holtaa’s face. He continued, however, to stumble half-blind
through the trees. He looked with blood in his eyes at the sky, the
stars and the two waxing moons of Tantum V glaring down at him with silver
light. He swallowed a sob and wiped his damp hands over his face. He could feel where the vibro-blade had struck,
just over his left eye. The gash was jagged and swollen and he could feel a
jelly-like substance as he tenderly brushed the wound with shaking hands. It
was either congealed blood or what was left of his eye. He stumbled on, whimpering softly to himself in
pain and anguish. He knew he had to get as far away from the battlefield as
possible but he really did not have a clue in which direction he was headed.
The trees were so thick they seemed to press in on him, making him lash out
wildly as he walked into a trunk or bush. Everything around him was a threat. As he crested a small hill his foot jammed into a
root and he stumbled, disorientated by pain and shock. He tumbled down the
other side of the hill, rolling down until his hand reached out to break his
fall and he felt water under him. There was a brook at the bottom of this small
hill, running quietly through the trees. He splashed into it as his forced
journey came to a halt. He lifted himself to his knees, gritting his teeth
against the pain in his ankle. Then thirst took over his grief and he pushed
his face into the chill water, slurping moisture like a starved animal. Then he raised his hand to his face, using the
water to wash his wound. A small pool swirled softly next to the brook, so he
lifted himself out of the water and sat next to it. When he looked down at his swirling reflection,
his head shook in disbelief and he covered his face with his hands. “No...
No! No!” His left eye was gone. As soon as his Stormtroopers had formed up and
charged at the smuggler’s base, Holtaa had made sure he had hung back with
the rearguard. The first sounds of blaster fire reached his ears as he had
pushed forward. It was at that very point Holtaa regretted turning
traitor for Queed. When the battle swung against the Imperial forces
Holtaa knew that he had to escape. He had shouted to his officers to run,
that they had to escape this madness before they were all killed, that there
was a traitor in the group. But the others had been so maddened by the death
of what was left of their command they had ran off to battle. Holtaa had not waited around to see the outcome of
that battle. He had pushed through the ranks, waving his
blaster around and disengaging from every standoff he came across. One pirate
had chased him until they had both burst out of the back end of the battle
and into the forest. He had caught him, too. Using the curved blade of
the long-handled vibro-weapon he was carrying, the Rodian pirate hooked his
foot and sent him sprawling, calling him the coward he was. Holtaa had rolled
over, blaster raised, as the alien swung his weapon at his head. Holtaa
twisted, the heavy blade slicing across his brow. Pain had flooded every
nerve of his body and he did not remember thrusting out with his blaster and
shooting his assailant in the throat. And then he ran. And ran. Darkness had fallen, but his legs had seemed to
find energy from nowhere and kept him going. Fear was the source of that
energy, fear of being discovered as a coward, fear of being struck down from
behind by an unseen enemy. But his stumble had ended that flight. Now
numbness spread from his face to his neck and his legs ached horribly. He lay back and stared at the sky with his one
eye. Tears rolled down his face. He could only feel them on his right check,
which made him cry all the more.
“Holtaa.” With protesting limbs he sat up, his hand reaching
for a pistol that was snagged in its holster. With panic-filled gasps he
groped out and pushed himself to his knees, scrambling back until he had
landed back in the brook.
“Holtaa.” He turned his head so that he could see the figure
that stood in front of him. “Why are
you crying, Holtaa?” The cloaked, armoured form seemed to swirl from
the trees, as if the leaves and bark had solidified into the man standing
before him. A low mist rolled from under the robe until it dissipated at the
water’s edge. Then the figure seemed to be fully materialised and he stood
before him. “Queed.”
Holtaa hissed. “That is
right. Why are you crying?” Queed wore breastplate and limb greaves over black
tunic and breeches. In his gauntleted hand he carried a long rifle with
strange designs woven around the barrel. But his face was disguised in the darkness of the
mandibled helmet. “I cry
for friends lost, for trust betrayed.” “But you
live, do you not? Is that not worth it?” “But at
what cost do I live?” Holtaa shouted, “Hundreds dead, victory at the cost of
all my men!” Queed stepped without a sound over the debris on
the forest floor, approaching Holtaa slowly as he spoke. “But we
had an agreement, did we not? Your sister and your family. Their lives for
your service.” “They
are as dead as I am!” Holtaa shouted. “I was a fool to think you would keep
your side of the bargain.” “You
were a fool to think you could escape me by joining the Imperial Forces. You
were grief-stricken and vengeful, Holtaa. Your best friend Tine had betrayed
you. Remember, it was Tine who lied to her, to you. You still made a pact.” “They
were words spoken in anger, Queed! In fear! To return to that time and deny
you your request!” “So, you
are a coward, a traitor and an oath
breaker. So be it. Your family will suffer and you can wander the sector
crippled.” Holtaa forced himself to his feet, one hand on a
tree-trunk, the other reaching out to Queed as he turned to walk away. “Wait!
You call me an oath breaker? I did what you bid and led my men into the
pirate’s trap! Now you must pay for my service!” Queed turned slowly. Although Holtaa could not
see, he could tell from his words that Queed was smiling. “But
Holtaa, was the agreement not that you led the Imperials into the trap but
still defeated the pirate force? I will honour my side of the bargain when
you fulfil yours.” Holtaa was aghast. He slid down the trunk of the
tree and splashed into the water again. “What...?” “The
pirates still maintain their hideout. Dressel is still there, safe, still
making his profits from their raids. I was unable to get to him.” Not for one moment had Holtaa conceived that the
pirates might actually win the battle. They had been outnumbered and
surprised. Obviously, the men that Dressel had called to arms were made from
sturdy stuff. Sturdier stuff than he was made of. “Then I
have failed.” Holtaa whispered and stared into the water. “There
is a way to redeem yourself, traitor. If you wish to see your family again,
that is.” Holtaa stared at the water, the surface in
turmoil, as was his soul. “I will
not kill Dressel for you, Queed.” Queed tsked.
“No, no,
nothing like that. Dressel is mine alone.” A gauntleted hand went into the folds of the short
robe and bought out an object. It was a small circular device with blinking
lights. Queed stepped forward and held it out to Holtaa. “Take
this tracker. You will surrender yourself to Dressel and hide this on him, if
possible. If you deliver the tracking device I will know and then I will
rescue you and return you to your family. I do have that power, Holtaa.” Holtaa reached out his hand and took the item,
slowly removing it from Queed’s grip. Queed turned, effectively ending the conversation,
but Holtaa said, “Queed,
why do you not challenge Dressel yourself now that he is vulnerable? Why do
you hesitate?” Queed stopped but did not turn. “I am
old and weak, and I would prefer to keep myself... hidden from unwanted attention for now. I used you and your men
to destroy Dressel’s protection, but that never worked. Besides, you do not
buy a dog and bark yourself, do you? Once you plant the device, you will be
rewarded with more than simply returning you to your family, I assure you.” Holtaa sighed and looked down at the tracking
device. “Why do
you hate him so much?” he asked. But Queed was gone. Holtaa looked around, but all
he could see was the receding mist through the trees. He had exchanged one pact for another just as
damning. He convinced himself that he was doing it for his
family. A family unaware of the threat of Queed’s vengeance and thinking
Holtaa long dead. But with what he knew, with what he had done, what were the
chances of Queed allowing him to live? He forced himself to stand on weary feet. “I won’t
do it, Queed!” he shouted. “I don’t want to be part of your war with Dressel!
I won’t be another of your dead! I’ve had enough of you and your vengeance!” “But will you risk it?” came a voice
from the darkness. “Will you risk the
lives of your family?” “But how
can you threaten my family?” Holtaa said. “How can you threaten them when I’m
dead?” As Queed started to materialise from the darkness,
Holtaa quickly pulled his pistol from his belt. “Do your
own damned dirty work,” he spat, bringing the weapon up and starting to take
aim at Queed. Queed watched with emotional detachment as his
rifle shot connected to Holtaa’s chest and his body splashed into the stream.
His last contact. His last operative. There was no one else to rely on, to
threaten, to help wear down Dressel’s defences so that he could get to him. Damn, he thought. Another one dead. As Queed turned a sudden thought entered his mind.
Every time he enrolled someone to help him in his quest for vengeance
he had always justified it by convincing himself that what he was doing was
for the greater good. Dressel was evil, needed to be taken down and every one
that died in Queed’s service was because of Dressel. It was his fault. He was
the one that had betrayed Queed. He was the one that had tried to kill him.
It was his fault. His fault! Queed stared at the body as it slowly drifted in
the water. He blinked, as if he had suddenly realised what he
had done. Whose fault? Dirty Work 2000 short story by
Jonathan Hicks Nine years after Episode
IV – A New Hope Histories – A tale that shows the brutal
ruthlessness of Queed as he continues to make good his reputation in
order to achieve his ultimate goal – gain revenge on those who had betrayed
him, primarily Dressel.
Cast of Characters Queed Holtaa |