Dead Shot

1999 short story by Jonathan Hicks

Four years after Episode IV - A New Hope

 

 

Tunnil raised the rifle to his shoulder and dropped to one knee, resting the barrel of the rifle on the handrail of the catwalk. He closed one huge oval eye on his T-shaped head and looked through the weapon’s scope.

   “I got him.”   He said to his companion, a short wiry figure crouching next to him with a pair of macrobinoculars up to his eyes. “He’s on the platform. No sign of the welcoming committee.”

The other figure dropped the macros and looked at the landing platform with normal vision.

   “They’re late.”

The catwalk the two beings were stationed on was stretched between two huge communication towers, their wide transmitter dishes projecting towards the purple sky at different angles. Opposite these dishes were several landing platforms rising like fungus from the cloud below, long-stalked and flat-topped. On one of these platforms was a small transport, inter-system capable but only good for short trips. It spewed gases and sparks as it sat, squat, grey and ugly.

Tunnil rubbed his eye with a scaly hand and re-set himself into a firing position.

   “Jan’s looking a bit upset.  It must be freezing up there.”

   “I did tell him to wear a heavier coat.”  The other figure said. “But, hey, it’s Jan.”

   “Show your employer a little more respect, Latti. Keep an eye out.”

There they waited, cold, damp and hungry. Every few moments Latti checked his chronometer and grimaced. Tunnil noticed his actions and dropped the rifle to a more comfortable position.

   “That won’t make them turn up any faster.”

   “I know. I’m just worried they won’t turn up at all.”

   “The amount of money Jan’s offered, they’ll have no choice.” 

   “Any idea why he’s offering up that many credits? More to the point, does he have the cash?”

Tunnil checked the setting on the weapon, his long fingers moving deftly over the control panel.

   “Pocock reckons that there’s a new gangleader trying to move in on territory around here, and the guy Jan’s meeting has got information about them.”

   “What kind of information?”

   “Like, who the hell this new leader is, what their name is, what kind of operation are we facing... normal stuff.”

Latti dropped the macrobinoculars and looked at Tunnil, his face incredulous.

   “What, you mean we don’t know anything about this new set-up?”

   “Not a thing. Anyway, this guy want’s one hundred thousand, up front, or he’s not talking. Pocock loaned the money.”

Latti pursed his lips and shook his head.

   “Glann’s only been gone a while and the whole sectors gone to pot. I guess if anyone would have known...”

   “...Glann would have known. But now Glann’s gone, there’s no more information brokers. I guess Setnin’s not the place it used to be. Anyway, Pocock’s not taking chances and he made Jan hire extra help.”

   “Great.” Latti sighed.  “I’ve gone from successful smuggler to hired help.”

They fell silent and watched Jan pace up and down impatiently. A few minutes later, the figure of the tall smuggler turned to face where they were and shrugged theatrically, knowing that they would be watching him and giving them a signal.

   “Looks like he’s giving up.”  Tunnil said, lowering his weapon and switching off the power feed. “C’mon, let’s scratch gravel. I’m aching all over.”

   “Hold on.”  Latti held onto his macros with one hand and grabbed Tunnil with the other. “Theres someone coming up in the turbolift.”

Tunnil re-activated the weapon and raised it again. Through the scope he could see a large cylinder emerging from the flat landing platform. The door to the lift opened and three figures exited, an ugly short human, a brown-clad Rodian and a species he didn’t recognise, a strangley curved beaked creature with died fur around the face and shoulders.

Latti was watching through his macros.

   “Recognise any of them?”

   “Nope.”

They watched as the figures walked over to Jan, the human leading, the other two looking around furtively. The man stopped about eight paces from the smuggler and started conversing. Jan reached into his longcoat pocket, much to the disapproval of the two aliens. Tunnil’s finger tightened on the trigger, his scope locking onto the being whose hand was resting on a hip-holstered Blaster.

   “Go on.”  He whispered. “You don’t have a clue, my friend.”

Jan produced a small bag, which he tossed to the man. The man reached into his pocket and pulled out a disk.

Tunnil blinked as his scope was suddenly lit up by a Blaster shot. The man’s back exploded in a shower of sparks. He saw Jan watch dumfounded as the limp form fell to the metallic floor. A second later, the report of a Blaster shot echoed off the tower.

Tunnil reacted instinctively. He locked onto the being he thought would be the greatest threat to Jan, and watched as he pulled his weapon. He then ignored the target and switched to the other one, knowing that Jan would already have ascertained the danger and come to the same conclusion as to who would draw on him first.

Jan drew his own pistol and fired as his opponent, the Rodian, was still clearing the holster, placing a neat black hole in the middle of his chest. Tunnil inhaled sharply and squeezed off his own shot. The energy bolt slammed into the other alien’s head and he spun around before falling to the floor, his fur smouldering.  

   “Shooter on the other tower!” Latti shouted. He had immediately scanned the adjacent buildings, leaving Tunnil and Jan to deal with the wet work. He pointed to another communications tower to the left, and Tunnil swung around and scanned the many walkways.

   “Watch Jan!”

Latti once again turned to the landing platform, and saw Jan looking around wildly, trying to locate the sniper who had shot his contact.

There was another flash, but the energy bolt passed over Jan’s shoulder and hit something on the floor of the landing platform. Jan was diving for cover under his rented transport whilst the sound of the shot travelled to Latti’s position.

   “I got him.” Tunnil said matter of factly, “Single shooter, Devaronian, with an LV-42 Quickfire. He’s making a break for the turbolift.”

   “Well, get him!” Latti shouted.

   “I don’t have a stun setting,” Tunnil said. “and I don’t want to kill him. I’m going to shoot the lift controls out.”

   “What if you miss?” Latti said, bringing up his macros to look at the fleeing, red-robed figure heading for the lift doors, his rifle slung casually over one shoulder.

Tunnil fired, the bolt zipping through the air with a whining sound. It travelled the four hundred meters to its target, hitting the four-inch lift control panel in the centre. The electronics exploded with arcs of power connecting with the tower handrail. A red light appeared over the lift doors, indicating they were locked.

Tunnil looked at Latti, his face expressionless.

   “I never miss.”

The red-robed Devaronian was startled and dropped down behind the relative safety of the handrail. He quickly scanned his surrounding constructs with his riflescope, his line of vision finally resting on Latti and Tunnil.

He was obviously cursing from what Latti could tell from the sniper’s actions. He was thumping the handrail and preparing his weapon to return fire.

   “Quick, Tunnil, shoot him.”

   “We may need him alive, Latti!”

   “I don’t think he want’s to be taken!”

   “But I don’t have a stun setting!”

   “Just shoot the man, for freck’s sake! Before he fries us both!”

Tunnil lined up the shot, locking onto the sniper. As he levelled the weapon, he saw his opponent doing exactly the same thing. They targeted each other’s heads, the scopes locking on and feeding firing data to the shooter.

Tunnil watched as the Devaronian levelled his weapon, but could see his hand supporting the barrel of the rifle clenching and unclenching, as if unsure of the shot. His mouth was working, saying things that were probably meant to calm him down. His chest rose and fell his breathing obviously difficult under pressure.

Tunnil didn’t shoot.

   “What the hell are you waiting for!” Latti watched the other sniper through his macros. “Shoot the frecker!”

 Tunnil held his fire.

   “He’ll miss.”

   “What?” Latti almost screamed. “Are you freckin’ kidding me? Shoot him! Shoot him!”

   “He’ll miss.” Tunnil said again.

He could see it in the way the sniper was acting, moving. He was making a shot that, if he missed, he would not get a second chance at. Tunnil figured that this sniper was used to taking out targets at long range and then slipping away.

But this target was shooting back. Tunnil, veteran of many firefights, was counting on the shooter breaking under the strain.

Latti placed his hands over his head and lay down, waiting for the lethal shot.

There was an explosion by his head as the Devaronian’s shot exploded on the handrail. Molten metal sprayed over Tunnil but he didn’t flinch. He lined up the targeter on the Devaronian’s forehead, taking his time and making sure of the shot, counting on his instinct that the sniper would miss and allow him to take a longer aim, therefore increasing his chances of hitting.

He saw the Devaronian’s eyes widen with shock as he realised he had missed, and then he pulled his own trigger as the echo of the Blaster shot reached his ears.

Latti lifted his head; sure that Tunnil had been shot. He saw his friend slowly lowering his rifle and exhaling. He raised his macros and looked at the sniper on the tower.

He sighed with relief.

   “Good shooting.”

   “Strange.” Tunnil said with his usual bland, expressionless voice. “It only just occurred to me that I could have shot the weapon out of his hand.”

   “Hey,” Latti said with a small smile. “Pressure under fire, and all that.”

Tunnil nodded, switching off his weapon.

   “Yeah, right.”

Latti jumped as his comlink buzzed. He raised the communicator to his mouth.

   “Tellex.”

   “Hey, Latti, its Jan.”

   “I guess comlink silence is over then?”

   “Well, as far as I know dead guys don’t hear too good. Did Tunnil get the shooter?”

   “Oh, yeah. Got him real good.”

   “Alive?”

   “He bought his TY-96 with him, Jan. No stun setting.”

   “Stang. Ah, well.”

   “Jan, what was the second shot after the contact was killed about?”

  “Sniper shot the disk the dead guy dropped after getting shot. Damn good shooting, the damn thing was rolling around on the floor. Obviously, whoever this new gangleader is he wants to remain anonymous. He also hires damn good shooters. Tell Tunnil he bested another professional.”

Latti smiled and turned, only to see Tunnil disappearing into the elevator tube. The door slid shut.

He took a deep breath of the cold air.

   “Yeah,” he said, half into the comlink and half to himself. “Until the next one comes along.”

 

 


Dead Shot

1999 short story by Jonathan Hicks

Four years after Episode IV – A New Hope

 

 

Histories – The cold ruthlessness of the hired assassin is the focus of this short Jonathan Hicks story as we meet the sniper Tunnil Fulle and his friends as they take on a job for the ganglord Glann Cipple.  With Jan Lomona in a cameo role as the bait, Dead Shot shows the harder side of Cipples operation - and the toughness of the men who live in it.

 

Cast of Characters

 

Tunnil Fulle

Latti Tellex

Jan Lomona