Old Debts

2000 short story by Jonathan Hicks

Seven years after Episode IV - A New Hope

Rain came pouring down and soaked every inch of the landing pad. The rivulets of collected water trickled in streams to the gullies that drained the pad when the weather was bad, but the sheer volume of airborne liquid already caused them to overflow. Abrogard was a very wet planet.

Next to the pad was a low building with a wide thick - glass window. A tall communications array towered above the construct like a twisted metallic gravestone.

Slowly, a dim light appeared in the low clouds, growing with intensity as the object the light streamed from came closer to the landing area. A flash of lightning heralded the arrival of the blunt-nosed starship as it emerged from the clouds. It listed terribly, a large gaping rent down one side belched smoke, and small sparks of power played over the bent and torn metal.

The ship measured around thirty meters long from nose to thrust exhaust, with a flat nose that widened out into the main bulk of the vessel. Stubby landing legs extended from the underside of the ship as it approached the ground, and the ship squealed loudly as the first strut connected with the metal plates that passed for a touchdown surface. Hydraulic fluid and carbonised gas flew from several emergency-venting ports as it settled.

Lights came on in the low building’s window as computer screens and machine readouts burst into life. A concealed door next to the window hissed open, and two figures ran from it, with large body-sized cloaks covering their heads, and hand held torches flashing over the ground as they ran through the squall to the ship.

Several lights had also appeared on the underside of the vessel, flashing and sparking as if the ship itself called for help. There was a loud cracking sound, a spray of superheated liquid, and one of the landing legs gave out and the bulk of the craft listed to one side.

The boarding ramp slowly lowered, and two figures came running down. Trickles of smoke swirled out of the interior, and the two figures from the building ran to get under the cover of the ship. One threw back his cowl, water running down his face and soaking a long drooping moustache and small beard. He looked up at the vessel and frowned.

   “What the hell happened?” he shouted above the screaming wind, looking over the underside of the hull, “Is anyone hurt?”

The first figure to emerge from the ship looked at the man with steely eyes. Her visage was reptilian, with wide jet black eyes surrounded by thick plated scales. A small pistol bounced easily from her thigh, and her brown flight suit was streaked with dirt and oil.

   “Nobody is... hurt,” she replied in halting basic, her thick layered lips making pronunciation difficult. “We were... collided... by... the electric in the sky.... as we came to your pad.”

   “Struck by lightning, huh?” the second figure from the building said. His thick ginger hair cascaded from his head in long dreadlocks, which were now soaked with rain. “Aren’t your anti-storm shields working?”

The second figure to emerge from the vessel was a large man with a baldhead. To accompany this, his face was also hairless, with bloodless lips and a hardened-pitted face. A large weapon hung from his breast holster, and he coughed and gagged as more smoke emerged from the portal.

   “We had a major systems failure as we hit orbit,” he said. “Our re-entry trajectory was logged in and set, but the thruster control matrix wasn’t calibrated for the new operating system we had installed a little while ago. All our readouts told us we were in the green for touchdown, but when we hit the storm I had to divert power from weapons and shields to regain control of the ship. Then this lightning...”

The moustache man nodded in sympathy and looked at the vessel again as if to assess the damage.

   “Well, we’ve got some pretty basic repair systems here, which should be enough to get you overland to Capitla City, where you can get help. Your going nowhere and fixing nothing in this storm, mind you.”

   The hairless man sighed deeply, looking at the ground and shaking his head. He lifted his hand to rub a stained forehead.

   “How much for the repair?” he asked. The reptile female crossed her arms and flicked out a long tongue to wipe moisture from her cheek. The dreadlocked man rubbed his chin and looked at his companion as if waiting for a cue. The moustache man glanced back and heaved a breath before saying in a rush.

   “We can patch you up for seven thousand credits so that you can fly to Capitla City, but you’ll need that landing strut repaired, and that’ll cost you an extra two thousand.”

After a gasp and a step back, the reptile woman hissed venomously.

   “Nine thousand? You would charge us... nine thousand... moneys for a... easy... patch work to our vessel?”

   “What the hell do you expect?” said dreadlock. “You're stuck out in the middle of nowhere, sister. You want us to weld hull plating on your craft in this weather? This rain ain’t never going away but the bad storm will last for another two days, so if you want to get to Capitla soon you’d better pay the readies.”

The reptile gripped her gun hilt and glared, making dreadlocks eyes widen and moustache to stand between the two and raise his arms in a gesture of peacemaking.

   “Steady, people. Let's not get over excited. We’re not trying to rip you off, lady, and we’re certainly not looking for trouble. What you’re basically asking us to do is repair internal systems and replace a major part of your hull. That landing strut’s going to need major replacement parts, a lot of which we don’t have on site and will have to machine to fit, so don’t start thinking we’re scrap metal pirates, and for freck’s sake take your hand off your blaster.”

   “Jal-too,” the man grunted looking at the reptile. “Do as he says.” He turned to moustache and frowned. “I apologise for her temper. Nine thousand will be fine. Can you start as soon as possible?”

   “Holtaa,” dreadlock called to moustache. “Take a look at this.”

   “Hold on, Tine, I’m trying to get this damned pipe out... oh, screw it, what’s the problem?”

The rain was almost blinding, with sparse flashes of thunder spreading across the rapidly brightening sky. Cloud cover was thick and oppressive, creating a vaporous shield, which denied sight of a purplish sky.

Holtaa, his hair matted to his face and his moustache drooping past the corners of his mouth, struggled to keep his footing on the slippery wet surface of the top of the vessel as he crossed over to where Tine was crouched over the end of the gash in the side of the ship. He was shining his torch at the very end of the damage.

   “What do you make of this?” he said, his fingers tracing the edges of the gash. The metal appeared to have bubbled at some point, leaving twisted shapes and large bulbous growths in the metal. The inside of the damage, where certain tubes and systems lined the inside of the hull, had been fused to the external metal and to each other.

Holtaa frowned, reaching down to touch the strangely formed plating.

   “Looks like it's been superheated.”

   “No way lightning would do that,” Tine mused. “A bit of carbonised scoring maybe, but this is way beyond that kind of power. I’m thinking of something a bit heavier...”

   “Like a turbolaser?” Holtaa added, his eyebrows raising and his mouth twisted.

   “Like a turbolaser,” Tine echoed, sweeping his damp dreadlocks back as they fell over his face. “I also noticed a couple of compartments on the hull, which I reckon may be weapon emplacements. I’m not sure if I like the feel of this.”

Holtaa stood and looked over at the low building where the two visitors were cooking fresh food. The orange glow in the window was the only thing he could see through the rain-curtained gloom.

   “You know and I know that we ripped them off with this price. The bald one was quite quick to agree to pay, so I’m wondering, does he really have the money, or...”

   “Is he going to pay us some other way. I must say, that’s crossed my mind.”

A flash of lightning swept the sky, illuminating the ship and making the two men squint. They looked to the sky and listened to the thunder explode around them. Tine shook his head, sighing deeply and trying to tuck his sodden dreadlocks down the back of his overcoat. Holtaa let his gaze wander back over to the small building.

The glow in the window had gone.

   “I think the powers down again,” Holtaa said. He began walking to the ship’s edge to climb down the secured stepladder.

Tine stood and looked over at the building, and then looked around the compound.

   “I don’t think so, the floodlights are still operative. Maybe a there’s a power problem.”

With a smile Holtaa looked at his friend.

   “I can see why I agreed to let you marry my sister. You’re so smart.” He took a small communicator from his toolbelt and wiped the moisture from the pickup. “I’ll give them a call inside and tell them where the tripswitch is,” he mumbled, and he pressed several buttons on the comm. He placed it to his cheek as it called the receiver in the building, and listened for the connection.

It continued to call out. It called so long that Holtaa turned off the device and placed it back on his belt. He turned back to face Tine, who had gathered his tools and was heading for the ladder.

   “The hell with this, the rain’s too heavy. I’ll carry on when it lightens up... is there something wrong?”

   “There’s no answer from over there,” Holtaa frowned and pointed to the building. “They must have heard the commo, even if they were asleep. I’d best get over there...”

   “Whoa, hold the frecking vidcom,” Tine grabbed his arm before he could start down the ladder. “I think there must be a good reason as to why their not answering, and considering what we’ve just found here, I don’t like it. Not at all.”

Concern flickered over Holtaa’s face as he realised he, too, was worried about the situation they found themselves in. He looked over at the building and then back at Tine.

   “Look, maybe we’re just getting a little jumpy. The weather’s tailor made for a good scare story, and these two could have fried us when they touched down instead of dealing with us.”

   “If they couldn’t repair this ship themselves, they wouldn’t fry us, would they? They’ll just get us to repair it and then bury us. You said yourself they agreed to the price a bit fast. And how many spacers do you know fly about with guns strapped to their person? Only lawkeepers and the odd privateer do that, and I don’t remember lawmen looking quite like that. They’re either running from something or they’re just nasty”

   “You’ve been thinking about this a lot haven’t you?”

   “Too damn right I have. This whole set up scares me.”

Another flash of lightning cut through the darkness, and for a brief moment the building was lit up. Holtaa drew Tine’s attention to the front window before the rolling waves of light died.

The front window was shattered, small pieces of broken glass lay in front of the construction reflecting the strobing light. The interior was indiscernible.

 Tine just stared, even after the light had waned.

   “Damn,” Holtaa whispered. “What the hell is going on?”

Another flash swept the compound, highlighting the shadows, which made the two men nervous, wondering if either of the newcomers were hiding in the darkest recesses of the area. Tine grabbed a powerwrench from his belt and began to climb down the ladder.

   “What are you doing?” Holtaa reached out to grab Tine’s arm but missed by centimetres. Tine continued to descend.

   “I’m bored of this,” Tine snarled, looking down to find his footing in the dim light. “If they’re going to waste us then I’m giving them a reason to. I’ll be damned if I work my heart out getting this ship repaired only to wind up with a blaster bolt in my head. Are you coming or are you going to contemplate this situation some more?”

He jumped the last few rungs and landed on the pad. Holtaa looked down at him, chewing his lip and feeling more than a little annoyed at Tine’s tone. He looked over at the building when the next lightning flash came, and looked at the broken glass and the darkness of the building.

   “Let’s go, then. We’ll end this right now, one way or the other.”

The pair stood at the base of the ladder after a few moments, gripping cumbersome tools like practised sabremen. They gained little comfort from the feel of the cold metal of the improvised weapons, thinking of the blasters the arrivals were carrying. The final conclusion worked out to the fact that it was better to have little defence than none.

Holtaa started walking first, with careful long strides. Tine followed behind with equal caution. The rain began to come down with renewed vigour, soaking instantly through clothes and blinding sight. Another flash of atmospheric fury highlighted their position.

As they approached the building they could see nothing new. The glass lay on the ground, the broken window allowed rain to soak the immediate interior.

Tine touched the pad that would open the concealed door but nothing happened.

   “The downed power has shorted the emergency door release,” he said.

Holtaa stepped forward and flipped the pad open. Inside was a small lever, which he strained against for a few seconds before it flipped over with a click.

   “Try it now.”

With several pushes and a selection of choice words, the door finally released itself to allow them to slide it open. The smell of burning drifted from the opening and they both stepped back, wondering what shape death would take if they stepped into the darkness.

Holtaa removed a small flashlight from his pocket and flicked it on, shining it into the building.

The table had been tipped over, the computer and accompanying hardware scattered on the floor. The communicator attached to the system lay smashed next to the rest of the items. Holtaa moved the arc of light from his torch to scan the rest of the room.

The rear window facing the trees was also smashed, allowing a long thin stream of wind and rain to enter the construct.

On the floor were the hairless man and the reptile female. Both had been shot once in the chest, and were sprawled lifelessly, the burning smell emanating from them as their clothes smouldered. The moisture from outside had done little to quench the burning, indicating that this could not have happened too long ago.

   “What the...” Tine began, and cast a nervous glance back out into the gloom. “What the hell...” he began again, not fully realising what it was he wanted to say.

   “What happened here?” Holtaa said, lowering his makeshift weapon.

Tine stepped into the room and allowed the torchlight to sweep the darkness. The room, undecorated and only used to monitor the landing pad and store materials, was devoid of any other occupants.

When both men were fully inside the room they heard several hisses of escaping gas and something zipped across Tine’s view. He yelped and back peddled, almost dropping the torch.

The light beam illuminated a small spherical object, a little larger than a man’s fist, hovering in the darkness. Multiple holes covered its metallic surface, with several antennae protruding from several of them. Every time it moved it hissed as processed air pushed it around as it hovered on its tiny repulsors.

It seemed to scan the two men before beeping softly and then shooting out of the rear window.

They stood stunned for a few moments as they tried to ascertain what had just happened.

   “No way. No way that thing did this,” Holtaa said.

   “It’s small enough to stow away on board a ship without being noticed,” Tine mused, half in shock and half in wonder.

   “But it’s a remote, not capable of... let’s get out of here, Tine.”

   “Yeah... yeah, I think you’re right, old friend.”

They both turned quickly, hoping to get out of the door and to their speeder which was parked in a secluded garage further into the trees.

The figure blocking their way appeared to be huge but its visage was only that way because of the heavy body armour and the helmet it wore. The helmet had two mandible-type protrusions down the front of the chest piece and a heavy cloak was secured around the shoulders, which hung waist-high. The armour and clothing appeared slightly damaged in some places but functional. The visor glared in the light from the torches.

The seeker they had both seen earlier hovered over the figures left shoulder.

Holtaa recognised straight away who it was.

   “Queed.” he gasped.

Queed, a notorious bounty hunter well known throughout the Mid-Rim but not often seen this close to the Core Worlds tapped his blaster rifle with his forefinger as he regarded the two men.

   “Who are you?” he asked, the voice tinny under the helmet.

With a slight tremble in his voice, Holtaa said, “He’s Tine, I’m...”

   “I know who he is. I was asking who you were.”

   “I’m Holtaa...” Holtaa suddenly realised what Queed had just said. “Wait, you know...”

Tine let out a laugh so loud it made Holtaa jump. He was amazed when he watched his friend step over to the armoured figure and clap a hand on his shoulder.

   “Riger, ol’ buddy, I was expecting you a lot earlier than this.” Even though the act seemed jovial there was till a slight air of worry in Tine’s voice.

   “My apologies, Tine. Things have progressed a lot slower than even I anticipated. And I wish you hadn’t used the name Riger.”

Tine looked at his armoured friend and then at Holtaa.

   “Oops,” he said, his mouth twisting in consternation.

   “Oops? What do you mean oops?” Holtaa demanded, unsure and a little afraid at what that meant. Obviously he wasn’t meant to have heard that name.

Tine ignored him.

   “Who were these pair?” He pointed to the bodies on the floor.

   “Counterfeiters and killers out of the Setnin Sector, working out here for Predd Jason. Trying to set up a production line stamping out Zelonian Donalees credits. The warrant said dead or alive.”

   “So why did you have to kill them?”

   “I’m in a hurry. Tine, Predd Jason has increased his base of operations and is threatening Dressel’s routes. Word is that Jason may make a move against Dressel, and I need to stop him. I need your skills as a processor hacker and get into Predd’s database for me.”

   “I see,” Tine nodded. “No one touches Dressel but you, eh?”

Holtaa was in shock.

   “Dressel? Database hacker? Tine, what the freck is going on?” The conversation was bewildering to Holtaa and he stared at his friend and the armoured figure, annoyed and feeling more than a little left out.

   “Who is this?” Queed asked.

   “His name’s Holtaa,” Tine said. “I’ve been working out here for just under a year, now, Queed. I’ve made new friends. I’m on the verge of starting a family. I never thought you were coming back...”

   “Tine, you made a promise and you owe me. You had one chance to live. It’s not too late to collect the bounty on you.”

   Holtaa looked at his friend in shock.

   “Bounty?”

Queed turned and started to head for the trees.

   “My ship is stationed two kilometres this way. The seeker will lead you to it.” He stepped over broken branches and discarded containers and disappeared into the trees.

Holtaa stared at Tine expectantly.

   “What’s going on. Who's Riger?”

   “I’m sorry you had to hear that, old friend,” Tine said. His powerwrench suddenly swung up and connected with Holtaa’s temple, sending him sprawling to the floor, injured but still conscious.

Tine picked up a blaster pistol dropped by one of the dead and held it to his friend’s forehead.

   “P... please...” Holtaa said, blood pouring down the side of his face. “I don’t understand....”

   “I’m sorry,” Tine said, trying to hold back the sobs of grief. “I didn’t want this I swear....”

   “My sister...” Holtaa croaked, trying to remain conscious and falling back onto the bodies of the dead.

   “I love her, I really do, I was a changed man, Holtaa. A long time ago I was a fraud, a conman, a thief. I was really good, but Queed got me with a warrant after I hacked into his ship’s computer and found out his name was Riger. A ‘bring him back dead’ warrant. But he said he could use me, and promised to let me live if I helped him and kept his secret. He let me live and I owe him. I have to pay him back. But I shouldn’t have said his name. Shouldn’t have said it.” Tears were streaming down his cheeks now and he clicked the safety off the pistol.

Holtaa was losing consciousness.

   “I’ll keep the s... secret. Please... not like this... not you...”

With a scream Tine pulled the trigger.

The blaster bolt sped past Holtaa and connected with the floor. Tine threw the pistol at the wall and ran outside.

   “I’m not a killer, Queed! I won’t kill for you! Never! How many have to die before you get your revenge? How many, you bastard!”

The lightning crashed, the rain poured.

A flash of red light and a blaster bolt screamed over the open area between the trees and the building and slammed into Tine’s chest. He flew back and to the ground, dead before he hit the floor.

Through the dim light Holtaa saw the figure of Queed re-enter the building. Through glazed eyes he saw the armoured figure drag the body of his friend out of the rain and deposit it on the floor with the other dead.

As the light dimmed and Holtaa started to lose consciousness he faintly saw the bounty hunter walk over to him and kneel down in front of him.

   “You have one chance to live,” he said.

Old Debts

2000 short story by Jonathan Hicks

Seven years after Episode IV - A New Hope

Histories - Showcasing the bounty hunter Queed this short Jonathan Hicks story effectively shows the feared hunter at work.  Using one of his many information gatherers in the field, Queed checks up on his progress and displays the ruthless streak for which he has become so well known.  Working on the world of Abrogard, this is a rare excursion away from the frenetic hustle and bustle of life in the Setnin Sector.

Cast of Characters

Queed

Tine

Holtaa

Jaltoo