Mistaken Identity

2000 short story by Jonathan Hicks

Six years after Episode IV - A New Hope

The first thing he became aware of when he regained consciousness was the dull throbbing ache that seemed to thump in his body. The neck especially hurt, the sensation of pain flowed from the shoulders to reach a crescendo on the inside of his skull. He wished he had remained unconscious.

He could feel a numbness across his chest and something cold and flat was spread across the left side of his face. He calmed himself mentally as he realised that the eye on that side would not open, and then he became aware of a sticky substance spread across his head. Slowly, he forced open his right eye.

He was pleased that there was very little light. He wasn`t too sure whether his rather sore opticals could take the strain, so he decided to risk raising his head.

The pain increased. It took a lot of effort to lift his head, but finally he managed to get it away from the surface, and then force his body to follow suit.

The flat surface was some kind of panel, dotted with controls and switches which he didn`t recognise. An irritating red light pulsed steadily, and so he turned his head to survey more of his surroundings. He knew that the sticky fluid on his scalp, and on the panel, was his own, but he decided not to worry about that until he had taken stock of his situation.

The first thing he thought of when looking around was that he was on some form of flight deck. Ahead of him was a large viewport, to the left was another control panel, with another form slumped in the seat, and to the right was a similar picture. Each of the figures were human males but he couldn`t remember having seen them before. The viewport was blacked out by something on the outside.

The numb feeling around his torso and abdomen revealed itself to be some kind of harness, holding him loosely in his seat. He smiled at the looseness of the straps, thinking of his contact with the panel and the blood on his face. He couldn`t remember strapping himself into this seat. In fact, he couldn`t remember anything that had happened.

It took a while to figure out how to undo the buckle that held the straps in place. After a few twists and turns and a few choice words from a parched mouth he managed to separate the two halves, letting small springloaded units wind them away. His arms ached and every physical movement seemed to wear him down.

He didn`t recognise this place, these people. He knew that his name was Bee, that he was thirty-seven years old, born on Nogard on an arctic station, son of... son of...

He couldn`t remember. He couldn`t remember who his parents were. He couldn`t remember about growing up, his adolescence, about his life. He could only remember waking up in that seat, his name and age, and playing in the snow outside something he remembered to be his house in the arctic with... with... an animal, that was it, a big thing called... called...

He balled up his fists and put them to his head, gritting his teeth. He could feel the slice where his head had contacted the panel, and came to the conclusion that he was probably still in shock, maybe a concussion.

It was time to stand. He eased himself from the chair, being careful not to aggravate his aching legs, trying to get himself into a straight position. He felt off-balance, but then realised that the actual deck was listing forward so that he had to steady himself to stop stumbling towards the viewport. Wherever the ship was, it was not even ground, which gave him the impression that the craft must have landed in an emergency. Actually, crash landed was a more accurate form of description. He could see more of the room, see where small fires had started from overloaded systems, see where the automatic flame suppressers had sprayed foam over them. The flight deck went back another few meters, and another form sat slumped in a seat facing him. From the raised platform and the heavy set seat and steering controls, he assumed that this was the pilot.

He crossed stiffly to the figure sat on his left. The form was a young human male, with jet black hair and a very rough beard. He was bruised along the right side of his face, and a thin trickle of dried blood ran from the corner of his mouth and stained his light grey flight uniform. Bee didn`t recognise the emblem on the man`s shoulder.

He checked for a pulse. It was quite strong, and as if he had the magic touch, the man began to stir. Bee stepped back with a start, his hand going reflexively to his left breast, although what he expected to find in there he didn`t know. He clenched his fist and forced himself to calm. The man`s eyes flickered open.

   "Wha...?" the man groaned and lifted a pale hand to his head, screwing up his eyes to try and clear it. He sat up straight in his seat as he catalogued every ache and pain, wincing as he shifted in the chair. Then he became aware of Bee`s presence, and slowly turned his head to face him, squinting into the dim light.

He licked his dry lips and croaked.

   "So what`s your story?"

Yullm ran his fingers through his black hair and scratched his beard, letting the head of one of the other humans fall forward.

   "He`s dead," he reported to Bee. "Looks like the straps broke a few bones. Been dead a long time, too." He jumped down from the platform and crossed over to Bee, who was checking the wounds of the still unconscious third man, who had light sandy hair and blue eyes. He was a very well built man, and Bee identified him as Grum Puthma, going by the label on his uniform.

   "You don`t recognise the other one either?" he said with little enthusiasm.

Yullm shook his head.

   "I don`t know who any of you are. I don`t remember coming up to the cockpit of this ship. I remember the sirens and the shouting... this is all very confusing."

Bee stood and offered Yullm some crackers, who took them and stuffed them down.

   "I don`t think I was a member of this crew," Bee said, "I`m the only one not in uniform."

Yullm shrugged.

   "Well, that figures.”

Before Bee could enquire as to the meaning of Yullm’s words the man continued.

   "This is crazy. The air is getting pretty stale in here. There doesn`t appear to be any power to this door."

   "And there`s no other exits," Bee sighed, "Do you think the ship is very big?"

   "It’s a pretty big vessel, a corvette, actually. Maybe there’s other survivors."

He jumped down the few steps and flopped down beside Bee, taking the offered nutrient flask. He gulped down a few mouthfuls and wiped his mouth with his palm.

   "I can`t remember the animal’s name... " Bee thought aloud.

   "Huh?"

   "Nothing. Look," he got to his feet, "We had better find a way to get power back before we suffocate in here. It doesn`t take a genius to figure out that no power means no air pumps. You start at the front, I`ll go over the pilot’s controls."

Bee was a little concerned at the way Yullm looked at him, as if he had just said something stupid or strange. He decided not to pursue that course of enquiry, especially since the boy was injured.

They checked each and every panel, flicking labelled switches, pressing buttons, and risking turning dials which could not be identified. They searched until Bee sat down on the floor, aggravated and somewhat angry.

Light flooded the room, making Bee cover his eyes and Yullm yelp with surprise.

Systems hummed to life. Lights representing different onboard activities lit up on different panels. Beeps and whistles squeaked for attention. Bee looked around incredulously.

   "What did you do?" he asked Yullm.

Yullm only shrugged and looked over his head at other readouts which were spewing information out at him.

   "I never touched a damn thing."

They both turned quickly as the door to the cockpit slid upwards, letting cool fresh air blow into the room.

Bee started to stand. The door to they had tried earlier had opened. The light that spewed into the room also contained a silhouette. Bee approached the figure.

   “Thank the Maker,” he said, “we were getting a little...”

As an answer the figure raised a heavy assault blaster and aimed directly at Bee. Bee shocked and more than scared, backpeddled.

The cannon reported, the bright energy beam screaming across the room and into his chest. There was a small explosion and a shower of sparks.

Bee staggered back, staring down at the smouldering hole in his chest. In those last brief moments before darkness came, he realised that the animal he had seen in the snow had not been his. He staggered and fell to the deck with a loud clang.

Yullm stared at Bee as he lay smoking on the deckplates, jerking spasmodically.

   “What the hell did you do that for?” He shouted at the figure who emerged fully into the room with the weapon still pointed at Bee. “He was only a service ‘droid!”

The newcomer looked down at the automaton she had just shot and then looked up at Yullm.

   “Take a closer look,” she said, her voice sharp and cold. Now that Yullm could make her out he could see she was wearing some form of tactical armour, the weapon plugged into a targeter she wore as a headpiece.

She moved over to the still form and kicked it. It stopped moving, so she reached down and stuck her hand in the chest cavity. It was slippy and greasy. The damage the ‘droid had suffered had caused many gashes in it’s casing where lubricants and oils were leaking. She tore out a small unit and pocketed it.

   “What’s that?” Yullm asked.

   “It’s central motivator. This killer won’t be getting up and about soon.”

   “Killer?”

   “Yes, killer. This is BB-6713. It used to be a security ‘droid on the generator levels of Chancai but it blew a fuse after it was tampered with in a sabotage attempt. It’s processor was filled with dozens of combat programs, causing a nasty feedback. It thinks it’s human. Several humans, in fact. What we call ‘multiple auto-synaptic recall’.”

   “It was a scizophrenic,” Yullm said, looking down at the ‘droid.

   “That’s right. It hires itself out, believe it or not, as an assassin. Apparently, that was it’s dominant personality. It killed everyone on this ship for some reason and caused it to crash. You were lucky it’s personality flipped or you would have been next.”

Yullm slumped back.

   “Who are you? Where are we?”

   “Nogard. Under a snowdrift on the arctic circle. For some reason BB changed the ship’s course and headed here. We were chasing you all over the sector. I’m Malletta, I work for a businessman out of Amagad who this ship belongs to. Let’s just say there was cargo on here we had to make sure was safe.”

   “Oh, yeah? And what was that?”

   “You. You are Yullm, yes?”

Yullm was a little concerned with the way she looked at him.

   “Yes?”

   “Glann Cipple sent me. He wants to know why you haven’t been sending him the personell reports.”

   Dammit, thought Yullm, almost die in a starship wreck, almost murdered by a crazy ‘droid and still work finds me.

Mistaken Identity

2000 short story by Jonathan Hicks

Six years after Episode IV - A New Hope

Histories - Written by Jonathan Hicks, this story, which follows Yullm's reports in the short story Reports from the Edge, shows Glann Cipple's field agent out in the field and attempting to stay out of the limelight for a while - until the Shadow Warrior Malletta catches up with him.

Cast of Characters

Yullm

Malletta

BB-6173