Hiring a Hero 2000 short story by Jonathan Hicks Under a year before Episode IV - A New Hope The sun was shining although there
was a slight misting rain that seemed to cling to everything and give it a strange,
metallic shine. Every blast of heat from retrorockets turned the atmosphere around the
landing pad into a huge mass of superheated steam. One such cloud was dispersing slowly to
reveal a recently landed transport. It creaked and groaned as it settled on its support
struts. The ship was long and covered in
exposed piping. It had four stubby wings, which doubled as extendible landing gear.
It’s dark grey metal glimmered in the moisture under the two dimly shining moons
above. The cloud evaporated. As automated
docking clamps seized hold of the starships landing gear, a small hatch slid open on the
underside and a ramp unfolded at a slight angle. The magnetic fasteners held it in place
and a figure appeared at the door, back turned to the bay as it descended the ramp and
stepped gingerly onto the metallic surface. He turned slowly and took in the
view, and then tilted his head up, eyes closed, to let the thickening rain splash across
his face. Rivulets of moisture ran down his face and neck and entered his flight suit, but
he ignored the sensation and revelled in the un-filtered air. He opened his eyes and took
in the sight of the two moons.
"Ahhh... Amagad,” he whispered, and moisture entered his mouth and he
smiled broadly. The steam was all gone, now, and he
used the improved view to take a good look at where he had been instructed to land. There
were nine other ships in the bay, all of different design and capability. He saw one huge
vessel with a garish paint job and tried to figure out where he had seen it before. It sat
lazily, the moisture gathered on and around it told him that it had been there quite some
time. His own ship was hissing as the moisture touched it’s still heated hull. Across the bay and through the main
door was a collection of domed buildings that made up the landing administration, and
beyond them were open forest and mountains. It had been a long trip from the
Galli Station. He had been suffering from headaches on the latter half of his trip due to
the variations of gravity as he had started the deceleration procedure on his final
approach to Amagad. He didn’t do that much space travel; he didn’t really have
to in his job. Once he got a contract at the place he had landed he would stick around for
several months until the job was finished. He had spent three months on Galli, and before
that fourteen on Zelon. The two days he had just spent cooped up inside the metal cocoon
behind him was the longest trip he had made. He never really minded the long periods
between voyages. It made the experience of them tolerable, less annoying. He had been
offered a lucrative five-year contract to shuttle passengers and supplies from Zelon to
Cawbate not long ago, but turned it down due to the pressure involved and the sheer amount
of travelling. The freck with that, he had
told his agent. He turned on his heel and started
the walk to the edge of the shallow landing pit he was in. Small swirls of steam rose from
the ground in their thousands as the ever thickening droplets of rain landed on the heated
platform. The man suddenly realised the state of the weather and began to quickstep up the
side of the pit, and then began to run as the rain gathered momentum. As he approached the
buildings to the side of the facility, his flight jacket was over his head and every
footfall sprayed water around him. The doors of the largest dome
signposted arrivals slid open as he approached
and he ducked in, pulling the coat back over his head and adjusting it to fit more
comfortably about his shoulders. He ruffled his dark hair to get a bit of shape in the
damp mass and approached the only desk in sight. The room he was in was well lit with roof
lamps and the silvery light from the moon shone through the ceiling to floor windows as
the light began to get dimmer. He passed couches and benches as he walked up to the desk. The man behind the desk was short
and lean, with thick electronic spectacles, which re-adjusted the focus as he looked up at
the new arrival. He put down the lightstylus he was scribbling on a pad with and
interlocked his fingers and gazed at him with a little irritation. The arrival looked on
the desk and saw a series of doodles on the datapad, and he smiled at the clerk
lopsidedly, silently apologising for interrupting his games.
“Welcome to Amagad,” the clerk said in a raspy voice, quickly separating
his hands to wave slightly to encompass the location. “I’ll need to see your
landing permit, licence and registration.” The arrival, used to this request
from every landing facility he docked at, was already slipping a wallet free from his
inside pocket and placing it on the desk. Before the clerk had chance to ask the question,
he divulged his name.
“Quenn, Arroth, registration three-niner-zero-three-six-oh.” The clerk opened the wallet and
began to scan the documents enclosed, placing each one to his right as he meticulously
read every piece of information printed on the plastic cards. He slid one through a small
scanner next to a monitor and a message appeared, clearing Arroth for landing his vessel
at the facility. The clerk nodded.
“Everything seems to be in order, although the landing permit does not specify
a departure date.”
“I’m hoping to pay as I go, actually.” He placed an account
credstick onto the desk and the clerk picked it up and ran it through the same screen.
After a little while, a message appeared under the landing clearance.
“That’s fine. Shall I debit your account weekly or daily?”
“Daily will be fine. I may have to leave at short notice.”
“I understand. The charge is one hundred and fifty for the landing access and
then a rate of twenty per day. Would you like to use any of the on-site facilities? Ship
valet? Re-supply?” Arroth noticed that as the clerk
offered the extra services, his expression changed as if looking at him for the first time
and realising something. Although he did not directly ask the question, Arroth guessed
that the clerk was wondering where he had seen him before. He became uncomfortable as he
was scrutinised.
“Where do I make my mark?” he asked quickly.
“What? Oh, just give me your thumbprint here, and a retinal scan here.” He did as required, all the while
conscious of the clerk observing him. He quickly went through the procedures and gathered
up his documents.
“Thanks. I’ll need a ride into the city. Is there a robotaxi about
somewhere?” The clerk jerked a thumb over his
shoulder.
“There’s a hopper service out back, it’ll take you straight into
town. There’s a five cred charge.” Arroth smiled, placed his wallet
back into his inside pocket and began to walk to the rear door. He passed under a frame
that resembled a disembodied doorway, which he recognised as a scanner, and when the alarm
didn’t sound he breathed out and headed for the exit, all the while aware he was
being carefully watched by the clerk. The
doors slid open automatically, revealing a small-concreted yard with no exit road. The
trees were close, now, towering above as if threatening to topple over and crush him. He
quickly scanned the area and saw a small transport in the centre of the yard, it’s
tilt-engines pointed downwards in the parked position. He ran over to it, the rain
pounding against his back and shoulders as he covered the short distance. The side door
was swung upwards by a single occupant as he came up to the vehicle and he all but dived
into the back seat.
“Wey-hey,” said the pilot, his stubble-covered face splitting into a
cheeky grin. “The weather to your liking?” Arroth quickly shook his jacket
free of excess moisture as he pulled the door back down. He returned the pilot’s
smile.
“Not wet enough, I reckon.” The pilot shook his head and took a
long drag on the thick NixStik he had jammed between his teeth. Arroth revelled in the
smoky atmosphere, reminding himself he had quit the habit last month. He reached into his
flight suit pocket and pulled out a five-credit chip.
“Can this hopper negotiate this weather? I could do with getting into town
soon, to a hotel.” The rain slowed to a drizzle. The
individual droplets ran down the bubble-like cockpit window in their dozens, casting a
strange live shadow over Arroth’s face as he watched each one join, separate and
track a winding path along the glass. The pilot brought him out of his thoughts.
“Haven’t I seen you somewhere before? On the Holovid, maybe?” He was
pressing studs and throwing switches to get some life out of the hopper. Arroth squirmed
and looked out of the window, as if turning his face from the eyes of the pilot would
somehow make him think he was mistaken. After
placing a large pair of earphones and a communication unit on his head, the pilot said.
“Yeah, I know you. Your that law guy from here, Arroth Quinn, right?” The
engines of the hopper were building in power, emitting a low hum that built up into a high
whine. The pilot turned his attention forward as he applied more power, but kept giving
Arroth glances in a mirror mounted on the control panel. The wings on the hopper began to
turn the surrounding water to vapour as the small craft rose from the ground. “Yeah,
your Quinn. Wow. Just wait until I tell Himbs who I had in the back of my hopper. Am I
right? I’m right, aren’t I?” Arroth let out a long breath as the
wings on the hopper tilted at such an angle it pushed it forward. Small maneouvering jets
kept the little vehicle stable as it began the journey into the city. Forest flashed by
underneath, sometimes too close for Arroth to feel comfortable. He wished the pilot would
keep more attention on his flying than on him. He decided to tell him what he wanted to
know.
“I’m Arroth Quenn, yes. But I’m not from Amagad I’m from
A-desando. I grew up on Amagad.”
“How long has it been since you’ve been back home?”
“Oh, years. Probably a good twelve or thirteen. I never really got the chance
to travel home.”
“I guess you were too busy busting criminals, right? I’ve seen the vid
reports, with you busting that DL smuggling ring on Tesser a while back.” Arroth shifted, uncomfortable with
the conversation. He crossed his arms and gazed out at the forest below, watching the
water stream at the wrong angle across the glass as if fighting to return to the landing
facility.
Outside the light was gone
completely, only broken by the two shining globes in the sky and the lights of the city.
Arroth rubbed his eyes and shifted in his seat to get a better view of the buildings as
the small craft circled in, decreasing altitude and speed, and apparently heading for the
roof of a four storied building which was long and thin with a larger, circular forecourt,
which housed a glass-covered swimming pool. At this height he could just make out people
crowding around the pool, obviously attending some kind of party. This section of the town
was relatively flat, with the buildings being no more four stories. Closer to the centre
of the town were half a dozen taller, more attractive constructions of different shapes. Amagad City was long and thin,
stretching up the coast across the mouth of a huge bay. To the south were the sprawling
landing pits, to the north was where the tall towers of scattered businesses and
operations. On the streets were shops and tradehalls that rivalled even the greatest
consumer sprawl. Just a little further north was a huge contained area. A fortress
surrounded by the most advanced security system ever devised, designed to maim or kill
unwanteds. Glann Cipple, the governor of Amagad City, was very particular about his
privacy. Everyone knew that Glann’s business was straight on the outside but crooked
on the inside. That was why so many beings flocked to Amagad; the chances of making your
fortune were high. The chances of dying on your first visit were higher. There was a jolt, and the hopper
touched down on the roof of the building with the swimming pool. There were lights
flashing in a circle where the craft had touched down, with large fluorescent lights
spelling out Hotel Amagad Landing Station around
the edge of it. The pilot powered down the engines but left the start up motor idling. He
obviously wasn’t going to stay long. Arroth opened the door to the
vehicle and stepped out, half expecting the pilot to follow him, but the big man stayed in
his seat and wound down his window.
“Well, it was a pleasure Mister Quonn. Just head down that turboshaft there
and it’ll take you straight to the booking desk.”
“It was a pleasant trip, thank you. Here.” Arroth handed him a couple of
extra creds, “have a drink on me.”
“I’ll certainly do that later. See you around.” Arroth quick stepped over to the
elevator doors as the pilot channelled energy into the primary engines, tilted the wings
slightly and took off at an angle, swinging around wildly and then streaking off,
attention lights flashing. Arroth watched it go, until it was just another flashing speck
in the night sky. It appeared to him that the pilot enjoyed flying alone a lot more than
plying his trade. The elevator doors slid open a few
moments after he had pressed a lighted button on the wall. He stepped into a clean
elevator car and pressed the ground floor button. The car dropped quickly. Walking into the main lobby, Arroth
suddenly felt out of place. This hotel was quite a set-up. There was a huge crystal
chandelier in the middle of a domed ceiling, which was the first thing his eyes were drawn
to. He surmised that it must at least have been the size of the hopper he had just
travelled in, and at this distance he couldn’t tell if the hanging was actual crystal
or mock-glass crystal. He let his eyes fall to take in the rest of the entrance hall. It was at that point that he
started to feel uncomfortable. Well-dressed diners and patrons cast cautiously scathing
looks at him, and some even walked around him to either avoid him or the smell of him. He
reached to his neck self-conciously as if there was a tie to adjust, but he just ended up
rubbing his chin and heading for the check-in desk. If the looks the guests had given
him had made him feel uncomfortable, the stare of astonishment the Twi'lek check-in clerk
gave him turned his stomach and made him want to reach across the desk and punch his nose
out of the back of his head. He just gave a weak smile and spoke.
“Room for one please, with a bathroom and a Holovid-ordering facility.” The clerk adjusted his own
immaculately positioned collar and looked down at the signing pad.
“I’m not sure we have a room, sir. I’ll just check with the floor
manager.” Arroth expected this.
“Anyway, I just landed and I got over twenty thousand credits spare. It would
be a shame not to spoil myself a little.” The Twi'lek did not seem convinced.
“Sir, this establishment...”
“... is a hotel to the paying customer.” Arroth finished the sentence for
him and laid his account card on the desk. The clerk picked it up and slid it through a
scanner, waiting for the account details to come up. He watched the clerk’s eyes
widen as account details flashed across the screen and then turn to face him with
agitation in his eyes.
“Mister Quenn, I apologise for my conduct. I’ll see about a room
overlooking the city.”
“Nothing fancy. Just a bed, bath and vid. I need to order some fresh clothes.
Oh, and can you arrange a robotaxi out the front, in, say, an hour and a half?” He
suddenly realised that the clerk may have seen his name on the screen and had seen the
same reports the pilot had seen. Well, maybe having a little reputation was handy in some
regards.
“Of course. Do you have any luggage?”
“Nope.” Arroth reached out and took the small doorcard he was offered,
and looked at the room number.
“D-twenty six on the fourth,” the clerk said. Arroth nodded and headed for the
stairs after signing the check-in book. The clerk watched him go. He rapped
his fingers on the wooden desk as he watched him disappear up the stairs, and then realise
he had been holding his breath. The door to the rear of him slid open, and another man
came out, dressed in the same suit as the clerk.
“Was that...?”
“Yeah, Arroth Quenn. Arroth frecking
Quenn. Can you believe this? That guy’s a hero!” The newcomer waved his hand low to
indicate the clerk should keep his voice down.
“Let’s keep it between you and me, Clar, I don’t want people
checking out, worried about getting caught in a crossfire. I’ll go tell the boss, and
you make sure he’s well taken care of.” The walk up the stairs made
Arroth’s legs ache after the long journey in the hopper, but he finally reached the
elevator and pressed the stud for his floor. More guests wound their way around him, and
the couple who had been waiting for the same lift as him stepped away, the immaculately
dressed woman reaching for her nose and making an obvious expression of disgust. The man
frowned, but then his own features changed to surprise as he looked directly into
Arroth’s face. He took the lady by the elbow and steered her away, whispering into
her ear and casting glances back over his shoulder. Arroth closed his eyes and shook
his head as he turned away. The elevator chimed, and he was glad when the doors opened and
there were no other passengers. He asked the autoselect for the fourth floor and looked up
at the level indicator as the lift car ascended. He adjusted his shoulders and took
a deep breath through his nose, suddenly becoming aware of how badly he did smell. He
became very lethargic on long hauls in space, and couldn’t be bothered to wash or
change, just think about getting to his destination. The long trips made him very lazy. The elevator chimed and the doors
slid open. The first thing he saw was a large imposing man with a stern visage and a bald
head, who seemed to surge forward into the lift. Arroth instinctively moved his right hand
to his left hip, as if reaching for an item. The large man noticed this reaction and gave
him a puzzled look. After noticing the breast badge
proclaiming the man as Hotel Security, Arroth quickly stepped out of the lift and walked
away, scratching his waist with the guilty limb as if that had been his intended
manoeuvre. He was aware of the elevator chime taking longer than usual to sound and the
doors to close as he proceeded away from the security man, which told him he was getting a
long distrusting look from him. He reached his room and opened the door without looking
back. The door slid shut behind him, and
Arroth exhaled loudly with an exaggerated groan and leaned against the entry hall wall.
The lights came on automatically and he checked out his surroundings. The room was well laid out, with
the large bedroom directly ahead and the toilet facilities to his left. According to the
notice he was leaning against, everything in the room was voice activated, room service
was available from early morning to late evening and, in case of fire, you could run down
the corridor and make it down the stairs to the forecourt.
“Chav, two sweeteners,” he said
to the drinks table. It immediately began gurgling as it boiled water and dispensed the
necessary condiments. “Shower, hot water, warm not scalding.” The bathroom burst
into life, the lights came on and the shower activated. “Vid, consumer needs,
standard buys.” The large Holo-tank flickered as it activated. Arroth inserted his
account credstick into a slot above the unit and started unbuttoning his flight suit.
“Vid, display clothes of casual and evening wear to suit male, two metres, medium
build, waist ninety-six, inside leg one-oh-two. All latest fashions, nothing fancy
though.” The tank began to slowly scroll
different styles and wear, listing only the affordable items after scanning his card. As
Arroth undressed, he took in the details and imagined how he would look in the clothes
displayed.
“Vid, halt scroll. Purchase items seven,” a dinner suit,
“nine”, a pair of casual trousers and a bantha-leather jacket, “and
ten”, a special offer, this hour only, buy a pair of boots and get a pair of evening
shoes for half price. “Have items delivered within one hour, and tip the delivery boy
two creds.” The vid acknowledged the
transaction, and the tip, and then switched to standby. Arroth picked up his jacket and
ripped open a Velcro section of the inside lining. From this he extracted a small
cylindrical item. He did the same with different sections of the jacket, and then
proceeded to repeat the procedure with the inside of his flight suit. In each hidden
compartment there was a metallic object. Each one was of various size and design. He bundled up his clothes and
placed them in the laundry chute, hearing the slight vacuum in the tube suck the items
down, and then a small credit charge appeared on readout above the opening. Arroth ignored the charge, knowing
he could afford it on the credstick. He laid out the items he had gathered on the bed. The cylinder connected to the
square box. The box to the oblong. The powerfeed slid into the cylinder. The larger
cylinder attached to the smaller one, which contained the exciter chamber. Arroth
meticulously assembled the Blaster he had smuggled through the sensors at the ship port.
He slammed the energy pack home, checked the readout on the side of the weapon and checked
the sight was working. There was no way the local gun laws would allow him into the city
or the vicinity for that matter, with an unlicensed weapon. He slid the Blaster into the
holster he had smuggled in his flight suit leggings and put it under the pillows of the
double bed. The door to the room buzzed. Arroth
placed his hand on the butt of his pistol although he kept it hidden under the pillow and
said, “Open door.” With a hiss and a groan the door
slid open, admitting a figure whose brown robes swept to the floor, covering his body
entirely. A facemask, consisting of two large eyecovers and a double-filtered breathing
apparatus covered the entire face, but the hands, long-fingered and almost clumsy looking,
gave away the species as Mon Calamarian. Carlonian Feese walked slowly into
the room and up to Arroth. The slow breathing through the mask grated Arroth’s nerves
but he didn’t show it. He pulled out the pistol from under
the pillow and showed it to Feese, then laid it down on the table at the foot of the bed. Feese checked the weapon over and
nodded.
“This is the weapon I supplied to you on Galli Station. You smuggled it
on-planet with no problems, I see.”
“Along with the DL-2 spice and the small explosive,” Arroth replied,
pointing at his boots. “They’re in the heels of my boots.” Seemingly
pleased, Feese inspected the boots and was satisfied when the items were indeed found
secreted in the heels.
“This is good,” Feese said. “Glann will be pleased. Your reputation
as a lawman has spread wide and far. I’m sure it will make Glann’s investors
happy to know that the most respected and trusted peacekeeper is on Amagad. It will please
Glann even more that the lawman is also proficient in other forms of business.” He
motioned at the items Arroth had smuggled in. Arroth nodded.
“You point me at the bad guys you want dealt with and I’ll do it. Anyone
you want to get away with whatever it is they’re doing, let me know beforehand or
I’ll just nail them like the rest. Agreed?”
“Agreed. Be warned though, Arroth. Glann likes results and he likes his people
to be loyal.”
“Yeah I heard that about him. Tell him he’s got nothing to worry about
from me, although my loyalty is measured in hard currency.” Feese turned for the door.
“I know no other kind,” he said by way of parting and exited the room. Arroth Quenn had been hired. At
least, as far as he could tell that was what had just happened. There had been no talk of
payment and no talk of contracts but it hardly mattered. That would all come later and he
guessed that Glann needed more time to check his details. He had cash and time, he could
wait. Three years lawman training, five years
on the legitimate job, and here I am hiring myself out to one of the biggest crimelords
about. Turn a blind eye, get paid. Shoot the odd perp, get paid. No matter what I do,
I’m gonna get paid. Well. I am on Amagad. Hiring a Hero 2000 short story by Jonathan Hicks Under a year before Episode IV - A New Hope Histories - Utilising a RPG character from the early 1990's, Jonathan Hicks has drafted a story chronicling Arroth
Quenns return to the city of Amagad and his entry into the services of
Glann Cipple, the governor of Amagad City. Cast of Characters Arroth Quenn Carlonian Feese Clar |