Orchids in the Snow 2002 short story by Mark Newbold Twenty-nine years
before Episode IV – A New Hope He knew, not so deep inside, that it was the right thing to do. But on the surface, that part of the mind that so often dictated one’s actions, it felt like the craziest thing he had ever thought of. Why did I read my brother’s letter search? He’d asked himself a thousand times, and still he didn’t know. Three years away from the Setnin Sector was a long time, in anybody’s book. But for a region of space that changed and altered like a spring tide, three years might as well have been three centuries. Still, he had made up his mind, and for better or for worse, that was what he would do. He only hoped that he wouldn’t live to regret the decision. He reached the peripheries of the sector,
a nebulous concept not marked by lines or borders but instead by the vaguest swirls of
hyperspace eddies and space gasses, and slowed his vessel to a virtual stop. Lowering his speed to a crawl he checked himself
and paddled in more self-doubt. Come on
Ade, this isn’t exactly my smartest move ever, is it?
After hooking up with Anak Arkensaw, this has got to rank a close second on my
hefty list of `Dumbest Things I’ve Ever Done.’ He smiled when he thought of his friend and occasional partner Anak. Arkensaw had returned to the Setnin Sector eighteen months before, gathering together some of the many and various bounty hunting guilds, uniting them under one large umbrella and basing it in the Chancai Trade Centre on the world of Zelon. And somehow in the process he had managed to find favour with their duel employer Duze Jostenn, although quite how the abrasive and frankly argumentative Arkensaw had achieved receiving anything but a swift death from the sectors prime ganglord was far beyond Ade’s comprehension. Perhaps having such great sway over the bounty hunting fraternity had something to do with it. Ironic then that it was Ade, a man as close to being in Jostenns good books as anybody, who was the one who’d incurred Duze’s wrath. Ade had heard little news from Setnin during his time away, but that snippet had certainly reached his ears. Perhaps that was why he was so out of favour, the fact that the two got along so readily. Or maybe because Ade had so efficiently pulled the wool over the ganglords eyes when he left Setnin with a cargo full of millions, swearing to never return and knowing that to do so would be on pain of death. Whichever it was, Ade knew that whatever he did and however lightly he tread, he would now have to watch his step in the Setnin Sector. This was no longer home: this was hostile territory. He gunned the engine and powered her back up, swinging into the edges of the Soluman Delta Gulf, a large and vast expanse of space rimmed by a variety of populated worlds. One of those worlds was Lomona’s intended destination, the world of Cantarr Bi Romou. He knew the spaceport there well, and would be shocked that, even after three years away, he didn’t find at least one familiar face. Unless Anak had decided to forget their previous friendship and posted the bounty that Jostenn had no doubt placed on his head. Then he really would be walking on dangerous ground. Approaching the spacelane that led to Cantarr Bi Romou with caution, Ade eased into the flow of traffic and motored along in a melee of freighters, pleasure cruisers and personal ships. He had no fear of detection; this ship had been bought out of the sector and to his knowledge had never entered it. But still the electric thrill of danger buzzed and charged him with a static that he found hard to quell. Influential brother or no brother at all, he would find life back in the Setnin Sector hard, of that he had no doubt. He placed his vessel, a medium sized stock light freighter called the Edge of Reason, on a waiting landing pad that hovered two kilometres above the surface of Kansonn Velee Spaceport. Landing space was at a premium on Cantarr Bi Romou, and the authorities had decided it best to utilise the deep airspace above the port, making best of what was widely considered to be the best automated piloting system in the sector. After the world of Commodore, a planet dotted with starship yards and starports, Cantarr Bi Romou was the sectors second largest spaceport, and was a commonly used stopover for pilots travelling through the sector towards the inner systems and the Core. Not that there was much on the planet to see - Cantarr Bi Romou was a pleasant world, but in the main was a hub for traffic. Ade collected his belongings in a shoulder bag and secured the Edge. Lights dimmed to a minimum, he opened the ramp and with a seconds pause stepped foot on Setnin soil for the first time in a third of a decade. The air was crisp and fresh, just as he remembered, and despite this being just one of over two hundred inhabited worlds in the sector, he instinctively knew that he was back home in Setnin. He aimed towards the portmasters booth, logged himself and his vessel in, paid the landing fees and walked the short distance to the hover-taxi rank that would ferry him the two kilometres down to ground level and the masses of the city. His driver, a grizzled Entallian with a distinctive wide head and broad grin, eyed Lomona closely as he settled in the rear of the cab. Ade ignored the attention and watched the clouds blur by as the descended down towards the taxi rank on the ground below. It wasn’t impossible that this driver had driven Lomona before, but he doubted if the Entallian would recognise him. Since his last hours in the sector he had grown his hair shaggy and shoulder-length and developed a deep tan that made him largely unrecognisable. Only his deep blue eyes, ocean blue as a woman once commented, betrayed him. All other inhabitants of Halando and her sister world A-desando owned brown or green eyes. Lomona’s, for reasons unknown, had eyes of blue. The taxi landed and Ade flipped the driver his credits. Leaping out of the vehicle to the ground below he grabbed his bag and began to walk. As he moved from the vehicle the driver gunned the engine and called out. “Hey.” Ade turned as the taxi began to elevate back towards the landing platforms above and paused as the driver leaned an arm out of the window. “You might want to think about getting a better disguise Lomona. Like a new coat, or maybe a haircut.” Ade paused and gave the driver a patent Lomona smile as he swung the bag onto his shoulder. “I might just do that. Thanks for the tip.” “Don’t mention it.” The taxi rose towards the skies as Ade watched, a smile on his face but a chill in his heart. This is going to be more difficult than I thought. It was mercilessly hot on Yotil, the shade of the enormous Canopy spread across the four stoic rock pinnacles doing little to lessen the furnace-like heat. On many days such as this moisture collected in the centre of the Canopy, collected from the comings and goings of vehicles as they made their way to and from the landing pads. Assisted by the brisk winds, that moisture fell like rain onto the people below, a refreshing respite from the glare of the suns. But today the wind was still, the suns soaking up even that unusual rainfall and baking the occupants of the Canopy. However, Duze Jostenn had no such concern. His large girth shifted in his seat as he turned slightly towards the huge fan that wafted cool air over him, and as his chubby fingers lifted yet another glass of water to his lips he smiled as before him his employees wilted in the heat. He felt cool, and was comfortable in the knowledge that while they melted into pools of sludge, he was as cool as a Hynra glacier. All was as it should be. He heard the freighter long before he saw it, the sound of the engines as distinctive as the creature that piloted it. Swinging in to view, the Deadmans Dream barged through a rack of vessels and hovered, landing at an angle, ignoring the paddle-waving ground crew who tried to manoeuvre the ship towards a designated pad. With a twist of amusement on his lips, Jostenn watched as Carlonian Feese exited his ship, pushed past the crew and strode towards his open dais, situated in the exact centre of the Canopy. As ever, Feese ignored protocol and etiquette and came right towards his employer with his news. To the ravaged Mon Calamarian niceties were for those who came last, and he had a master plan for his career that didn’t include being lined up behind anyone. Not even if they asked nicely. Jostenn leaned forward as Feese approached and eyed him expectantly. “You have news?” The Mon Calamarian nodded, the bright sunlight reflecting off the matt-black metal of his faceplate. “Ade Lomona is back in the sector.” All traces of calm bled from Jostenns face and he sat bolt upright. Now he realised why Feese had chosen to bring this news to him in person, mask-to-face. “Where?” “Kansonn Velee spaceport on Cantarr Bi Romou. His debit details showed up on a sales slip.” Feese waited for his employer to reply. “Do you want me to find him?” Duze shook his head. He knew that when Feese `found’ someone they often returned in a body bag. No, this issue required a modicum of finesse. Revenge always did. “No…make sure our agents on Cantarr tail him. Find out what he’s doing here.” He turned to look beyond the Canopy to the harsh glare outside. “If he’s foolish enough to return to Setnin after my warnings to stay away then he must be here for something important. I want to know what that is.” He returned his stare to Feese. “That is something I want you to find out.” Feese nodded and stepped back. “Consider it done.” Duze Jostenn smiled. Feese was as good as his word. If he agreed to a job, it was a done deal. As Ade Lomona would find out. To his cost. It was the best meal he’d had in years. Not that the cuisine of the Core Worlds, or the rest of the Mid-Rim, or the Outer Rim Territories or any other part of the galaxy wasn’t equally as excellent, just that eating a Trezore egg on home soil made the experience that much more…meaningful. Ade smiled as he wiped the corners of his mouth and leaned back in his seat to watch a heavy freighter lift off into the pink-tinged, traffic filled skies. He’d been back in the Setnin Sector for over a day, and so far nothing. Not a sideways glance, or the twinge of being watched from the shadows that he so regularly sensed when danger came a calling. No moments of panic. And Ade was expecting that and much more. If there was a price on his head then it must have been a low one, and as he sank another Duarga he breathed out in relief. All those years of running from planet to planet, station to station, spending his stolen money like it would burn a hole in his pocket, and for what? Well, he knew he’d have never been able to go spending crazy like that in Setnin, that was for sure. He’d seen things and been places that most folks would never be afforded the opportunity to go. And being the kind of man Ade was, he wouldn’t trade those experiences for the world. But he’d missed his home sector more than he realised, and when his brother Narn had contacted him by letter-search, a slow but almost idiot-proof system of mail that searched planet to planet until the recipient was located, he realise that he indeed had no choice but to return to Setnin. For family obligations as well as to face the inevitable music. Only once had Ade ran away from a situation, a stubborn streak within him that had led him into difficulties on more than one occasion, and even though it had been with his occasional partner Anak, a fast ship and several million credits he still felt a twinge of disappointment with himself. Could money buy you self-satisfaction? He wasn’t sure, but he did know that all that remained of the money was credit slips and receipts, and besides, they were all cashed using a false name. It was a habit that he’d begun years ago to keep himself out of trouble, although if Kenn St John ever caught up with him he might think twice about doing it again. He eased forward and waved the waiter over to settle the bill, using his own debit card, pleased to not have to hide away any more. Dammit, he was a Lomona, and proud of it. Despite the family habit of allying themselves with whoever was in power at the time, and being a clan of military-minded, power-crazy egomaniacs, he carried the name with pride and was determined that the next generation of Lomonas would be a different breed. Independent of mind, like he was. Not that it had helped him much. He often wondered whether his brother Narn had the right idea, join the A-desandian Militia, forge a career in the forces and become…somebody. Instead of a blight on the family name. He smiled. That’s what his mother had called him, as well as his sister-in-law Sierra. But he cared little for other people’s opinions. If life was sweet for him, life was sweet, period. And as the last drop of Duarga sank down, life felt very good indeed. He pushed off his seat and left the bar, stepping into the crowded streets and back towards the spaceport and the hover taxi that would take him back to the Edge of Reason. He walked with an easy gait, but for the first time felt watched. As if the shadows were spying upon him. He shrugged, his current good mood not about to be ruined by the after effects of a Trezore egg and a few drops of Duarga, and continued towards the taxi rank. But every step was cautious, and despite his initial confidence the shadows felt like they were keeping tabs on him. And even on the open-topped taxi ride to his freighter above the birds and clouds were a threat, and on the whisper of the breeze Ade could hear trouble. “He’s leaving the planet,” stated Feese blankly, eyeing his data pad closely and not looking up to see the expression on Jostenns face. “He’s heading further into the sector.” The suns had abated their assault on the Canopy, and a cool breeze was wafting through the area. As one sun began to set over the distant horizon, and the glare eased, Duze leaned forward to closely read the scrawl of information as it blipped by. He was neither surprised nor disappointed by Ade’s actions. Indeed, they were little more than he expected. For a man born in the Desando System he was a rarity. Independent, broad-minded, impulsive. Not like ninety-nine percent of the populations of A-desando or Halando, sister worlds that shared a bloodline tracing back millennia. It was part of the reason Duze gave Ade so much work, he simply liked his style. And it was the reason he felt so betrayed by his actions. He sighed and leaned back, wishing that he could excuse Ade’s actions, but no matter how hard he tried he kept coming back to that familiar sting of betrayal. “Who will you send to tail him?” asked Feese darkly, always prepared for action, ever ready for a fight. Duze shook his head slowly, chewing thoughtfully on his lower lip and pushed himself to his feet, walking off the dais towards a large, tent-like construction. Feese followed behind, waiting on his employer’s word. If the word were given, Ade Lomona would be a dead man walking. Jostenn entered the tent and beckoned for Feese to follow. “I won’t send anybody. There’s one thing you have to learn about this particular breed of Desandian.” Jostenn referred to the shared lineage of both Halandans and A-desandians. “They illuminate their surroundings like a beacon.” He smiled, seated himself again and folded his fingers into fat, chubby layers. “Lomona will be as easy to find as a Rodian on Hoth.” He smiled at his own little analogy as Feese shifted uneasily on the spot. Duze regarded him with a look and waved his hand. “I believe you have to return to the Aceatat System. A spot of business concerning a…rival?” Feese nodded and began to step away. “Once my work is complete you will have little bother off Jomobol Pocock again.” Feese smiled behind his mask and, hidden as that smile was, Jostenn could sense it. He’d never seen behind the mask and he doubted that he ever would, but he did know that whatever lay behind there was masked for good reason. Duze often wondered if the facemask was Feeses way of obtaining an edge on his opponents and allies, or his only way of hiding from the world. Whichever, he was a fearsome proposition, as enemy or ally, and he wasn’t upset to see the Mon Calamarians cloak wisp through the flap of his tent and towards his waiting vessel. He lit his hookah, took a long drag and relaxed as the smoke made its heavy way down his throat into his lungs. He had lived a rich, opulent life for decades now, and he planned many more. Ade Lomona was no threat to that plan. Indeed, if things had been a trifle smoother he could have become an integral part of his future success. He liked the boy, and was hurt that he had turned like he had. But, he had to smile. He’d pulled a similar stunt when he was a mere smuggler, years before when he worked for Setnins previous number one gang leader Beayance Trease. She had been a true visionary in the underworld, utilising the Bordon Space Lane and making it the prime route through the sector, separating the region into what the underworld knew as smuggling sectors, effectively quadranting the sector into quarters and, controversially, increasing the presence of bounty hunters within the sector. Duze had learned much from her, and respected her strength and veracity. But, as with everything and everyone, her time came to a close and while Duze was in no way responsible for her demise, he was more than able to step into the breach and take her place. His innate ability to watch and learn had served him well, and along with his own acumen in business he had forged a strong and vital underworld empire that spanned the Setnin Sector. But no further… He’d thought about it, toyed with the idea of expanding his influence to other sectors. He traded with worlds as far flung as Tatooine on the Outer Rim to Corellia towards the Core. But the actual process of having permanent concerns in those places held scant interest for him. He was Setnin born, and other places were of no consequence. Their money was welcome, but no more. He personally saw that consolidation as a strength, whereas others saw it as a weakness. He knew that his former employee Glann Cipple had visions of an underworld organisation spanning the Mid-Rim and beyond, but Duze knew enough about his protégé to doubt it would ever happen. Glann, strong and able as he was, carried much baggage, and Duze was enough of a reader of people to see that. Glann would spread his tendrils wider and deeper than Duze, but to no significant effect. Like Jostenn, he would find a Setnin world, make it his castle and hide. Duze had done this through choice. But Glann? He would do it from necessity. The second sun finally set behind the jagged mountain range and the light began to fade as Duze took another drag and pondered the future. Ade could see the vast pyramid of the Chancai Trade Centre in the distance and kept the Edge of Reason low and tight to the treetops. He knew that at some point he would have to visit here, but despite his increasing feelings of being watched he had risked his neck and made the trip. Even in these days of succession from the Republic and the uncertainties that had thrown up, Setnin remained strong. Perhaps with more of an influence from the strong-arm of the underworld, but solid nonetheless. Ade knew that if he were to find a way back into Setnin life he would have to come here, grease a few palms, oil a few wheels. That was simply the way it worked, and there was no place with more palms and wheels than Chancai. He understood its rules and boundaries: well enough to risk going against them. He pulled the Edge into a bay on Level Twelve and paid the
portmaster. Ade knew that being here on
Chancai would attract attention, even if he kept the lowest of profiles and did nothing to
warrant it. Simply being here was action
enough. So with that in mind he made his way
from the port area into the hustle and bustle of Chancai’s Southside streets, not
bothering to stick to the shadows. The
shadows were where he was being watched. He
quickly found himself leaning against the bar of Unit 1739, the Struggling Lobo Liquor Bar. It was a regular haunt for those lowlifes with a
penchant for gutter-level information. The
watering hole of the true bottom feeders. In
other words, the perfect place for Ade to be gathering info. He ordered a tall glass of Vineau, his preferred
drink of choice, and seated himself on a barstool. He
checked his chrono - it was 15.40 hours and the main loads had been delivered for the
afternoon. Now the Southside bars began
filling with the low-paid haulers, load lifters, ground crew and cargo carriers making the
most of a few precious hours away from their grimy, under appreciated jobs. Ade could well imagine the hatred imbued by
handing all these menial tasks over to droids, whose only payment was a tune up and a
canister of oil every now and then. But when
he saw the faces of the workers, of every size, sex and race he wondered why. Hard graft was one thing, but this? Lomona scanned the crowd
closely, waiting to see if he could spot any familiar faces. He thought he’d spotted an information broker
he knew, but closer inspection proved him wrong. And
as he spent the next two hours doing much the same he came to the slow realisation that
yes, three years had passed and faces and contacts were gone, deceased or out of date. And that he was very much living in the past. Which gave him little choice in the matter. He’d have to go and
see Anak… Anak Arkensaw narrowed his
eyes and fixed a constant stare on the man before him, smiling to himself as the man
visibly squirmed beneath his gaze. Arkensaw
was well aware of why this man was here, and why the sheen of sweat was so apparent on his
forehead in a climate-controlled environment such as this.
He’d learned how to read people during his brief but swift rise to prominence
in the bounty-hunting world, and he used this newfound knowledge at every opportunity. This man, he could read like a book. Avery well-thumbed, dog-eared old book. The man was seeking time, a break, some breathing
space. Anything but the fate that had been
posted on his head. Anything. “Listen, Mister Arkensaw, I just need a
little more time. You don’t understand,
Belarra can be a real stickler for the details.” “Not my problem pal. You agreed to the loan and the repayments scheme. You decided to break that agreement and try to
skip the sector. It’s not my fault that
Belarra’s men caught up with you, is it?” It was a rhetorical
question that required no answer. The man
shifted his gaze away from Anak to look through the wide and narrow two-way window that
grooved through the wall. He squinted as he
did so, focussing his eyes and fixing them on something he could see through the glass. “I don’t believe it…” he
began as Anaks eyes averted towards the window to follow the mans stare. “What?” he asked, rising from
behind his desk and walking around it. The
man pointed. “That’s Ade Lomona,” he
stated, and as Anak came level with the glass he could see directly through into the eyes
of his friend and one-time partner. He turned
to the man, who he suddenly didn’t have time for. “You’ve got a week to get that
next instalment sorted, no more. I can stall
Belarra but I can’t stop him. It’s
up to you, but don’t come here again asking for help.” The man nodded, went to
shake Anaks hand, thought better of it and turned to leave.
Anak motioned for his assistant to come over and whispered to her to cancel his
next two appointments, and exited his office. Ade
stood in the centre of the corridor, hands shoved deep in his pockets, a grim smile on his
face. Anak raised his eyebrows. “Ade, long time no see.” Ade nodded as he moved
forward, his hand outstretched for a handshake. Anak
raised his eyebrows and cocked his head. “Not sure if I should accept that. You’ve got a serious bounty on your
head.” Ade sneered in mock anger
and offered the hand again. “Cut the crap Arkensaw. I came to talk.
You got a minute?” Anak appreciated straight
talking and pointed towards an empty office adjacent to the corridor. The two men entered, Anak seating himself in a
chair Ade leaning against a table. “So,” asked Anak as Ade removed
his jacket. “What you been up to this
past year?” “Spending the rest of that money. Although I’m beginning to think I made the
wrong choice when I stayed out there.” Ade
nodded appreciatively as he surveyed the room. “You’ve
done well buddy.” Anak smiled and leaned
forward in his seat. Yes, he had
done well, of that there was no doubt. Finally,
after years of scrabbling for a living he’d found his true vocation up here on Level
Ten at the Bounty Hunters Guild Headquarters on the Southside of Chancai. And he was damn
good at it. “Thanks.
It’s hard work, but we’re getting things sorted out. There’s a lot to do, but it’s getting
done.” He eased back into his chair and
fixed Ade with a stare. “But you
didn’t come here to pat me on the back and catch up on old times. What’s up?” Ade blew out a long breath
and shook his head. How the freck do I explain this one? “Alright, cutting a long story very
short, how annoyed is Duze with me?” “On a scale of one to ten?” Ade raised his eyebrows
and shrugged. “Yeah.” “About twenty.” Anak leaned forward in his seat. “Listen pal, you’ve got to
understand, you were one of his most trusted men. He
gave you some decent jobs. And then you
screwed him over.” Ade stood up and frowned
deeply. “Whoa, whoa, whoa buddy. You’re making it sound like I was the only
one doing the screwing. I clearly remember
two of us ripping him off and skipping the sector.” Anak smiled and nodded. “Yeah, but this isn’t about me is
it, it’s about you. Duze and me cleared
the air a long time ago. Me and him are cool. You’re not.
If you want to get back into Setnin, you’re going to have to think of a way to
sort that out.” The air deflated out of
Ade’s sails as the truth of Anaks words blew past him.
Dammit, he’s right. Look at where he is now. Head of the sectors bounty-hunting guild. And look at me.
Just another down-on-his-luck bozo with a problem to solve. I think I’m in trouble. “Got any ideas then hotshot? I seem to remember you always having an answer to
everything. Care to come up with one
now?” Anaks smile faltered and
he stood to his feet. Ade felt a chill run
through him – it was a rare occasion when Anak appeared quite so serious. Bad
news, coming my way at lightspeed. “If you really want my honest advice,
I’d go to Yotil right now and speak to him face-to-face.” “You’re kidding, right?” Anak shook his head
vigorously. “I’m serious. Show some balls.
Go right up to him, get down on your knees and grovel for your life. You never know, he might just have you tortured. A little.” Ade blew out another long
breath. Maybe Anak was right. Maybe going to Yotil was
the best thing to do, even if the likelihood was that Carlonian Feese or another of
Duze’s assassins would cap him off within ten light years of the planet. Face up to his problems like a man. Like a Lomona.
No, that didn’t work. A true
Lomona would turn tail and hide behind the biggest friend he could find and let him do the
fighting for him… Ade smiled as a thought
occurred to him, and he patted Anak on the shoulder.
Thought through like a true Lomona. “Thanks Anak, you’ve just given me
an idea.” Anak watched as Ade
collected his jacket and left the room, and as the door closed he smiled and folded his
hands together. “Good luck buddy. You’re gonna need it.” “He’s making his way to
Yotil.” Feese growled into his ships
comm, the Deadmans Dream lying at the periphery of the Aceatat System,
preparing to enter and hunt for prey. Jostenn
raised an eyebrow. He wasn’t surprised,
it was precisely as he expected. After all,
how else could Lomona expect to survive in Setnin?
At some point he would have to approach his former employer and ask for
forgiveness. Or rather beg for it. Duze didn’t gain any pleasure in watching men
squirm and plead, but he was prepared to make the occasional exception. And this, he swore to himself, was one of them. “As I expected. Lomona may be a robber and a thief, but he knows
his place. If he expects to re-enter life
here, he has to come to me first.” Feese twitched beneath the
cold matt-black mask. “You should execute him and be done
with it.” Duze shook his head at the
comm, Feeses voice rasping through the ether like a vengeful wraith. “And that would gain me what, exactly? Lomona has travelled the galaxy on the proceeds of
my stolen treasure. Dealt with people and
organisations I have no knowledge of. Made
contacts with crooks and gangsters that may…benefit my cause.” He paused as he let his own words sink in. Indeed, Ade Lomona had travelled further and
wider in those three years than Jostenn had in his considerably longer life. If he wasn’t such a lover of Setnin he might
be jealous. But he wasn’t. He employed others to travel and scout the worlds
for contacts and informants. If he wished to
travel, he need only close his eyes. “He’s
no use to me dead.” Feese snarled down the
crackling line. “He’s no threat to you dead
either.” “What do you mean?” Feese leaned in closer to
the comm unit, the glow of the Aceatat Systems worlds illuminating the thick
transparisteel that served as a window. He
gripped the sides of his pilots seat. “Anak Arkensaw left the sector at the
same time as Lomona. He returned a year later
with enough knowledge and leverage to be a threat, and you agreed to keep him alive. Lomona has been gone three years.” Feese paused.
“What’s to say he won’t also have a `proposition’ for
you?” Duze blew the air out of
his flared nostrils and sat stiffly upright. Feese
had an uncomfortable knack of saying the right thing at precisely the wrong time. As much as he wished he could forgive his former
employee, the Mon Calamarian was right. Lomona
might well be a threat, and Duze couldn’t allow that. At least, not until he’d heard what Ade
had to say. “Lomona is a resourceful man. He wouldn’t come here without a plan. But until I’ve heard what he has to say I
can’t judge him. And I will hear
what he has to say.” Jostenn added with an edge to his voice. Feese noted the tone and lowered a lid over his
scarred and damaged eye. “You’re the boss.” He
growled, his voice leaving no doubt that he disagreed with his employer. Jostenn nodded as he leaned in to deactivate the
communications console. “Yes I am. And that’s just how I like it.” He flicked off the comm before Feese could
reply and pondered the situation in the darkness.
Ade should be here very soon. And then we end this. Permanently. Yotil illuminated the
skies like a sun, and Ade drew the quiet analogy of riding blissfully into the fire as he
swung his vessel low over the jutting outcroppings of rock and manoeuvred the Edge of Reason towards the Canopy, and whatever fate Duze Jostenn
decided lay ahead for him. He had been back
in Setnin for only a few short days, and had certainly done a good few light years trying
to work his way through the situation, but deep down he knew he’d have to travel here
at some point. May as well face the music now. Running won’t help any more. Besides, I’m tired of running. He landed the Edge
half a kilometre away from the Canopy, the mid-morning suns not yet at their apogee, their
heat not yet at broiling point. He left his
vessel on standby, wishing he’d purchased a droid to assist him. Too
late for that, he smiled to himself, rifling
his fingers through the sales slips and receipts in his pocket. I
spent all the damn money. The morning air was
pleasant, and the walk conducted in silence. Even
after his many visits here in the past, the site of the Canopy still filled him with awe. Spread across four huge spears of rock and secured
with steel rigging and cables, the Canopy covered an enormous amount of land. Enough to harbour parked starships, tents, mobile
offices, weapons depots, a cantina and a repair bay.
And central to it all, raised above the proceedings and rotating slowly to allow
its occupant full sight of his operation, Duze Jostenns dais. Ade spotted it at the core of the Canopy, and
noted its orientation and lack of movement. Jostenn was watching him. Ade felt naked and very
much alone, the narrow winding path taking him to the edge of Duze’s base. He could almost feel the hot spots of laser sights
burn into him, and knew that ten snipers, maybe more, were tracking his every move. He wondered which of those snipers had a bead on
him. Feese perhaps, or maybe Tunnil Fulle. He knew that if either were squaring off at his
head, it would be resting in pieces by his side in no short time. Pushing that disturbing thought aside he
entered the shade of the Canopy and strode with as much confidence as he could muster
towards the dais. The area was cleared of
Duze’s personnel. Once Ade got within
thirty meters of the dais there was nobody about, and the last few steps were walked with
a heavy air of foreboding. Despite being
inside the Canopy he was no safer here than he was in the open space outside. Duze stood as Ade approached, an all-too-fake
smile sitting on his well-fed face. Ade
decided against returning the gesture: it just wouldn’t have felt right. “Ade my boy,” began Duze,
motioning for Ade to join him on the dais. “So,
you’ve returned. Whatever brings you
back to the Setnin Sector?” Lomona couldn’t
decipher if it was fake pleasantries or genuine sarcasm that drove the questioning, but he
answered all the same. “You wouldn’t believe me if I told
you.” “If you tell me I might be able to
determine that for myself.” Duze replied. He
pointed to an empty chair as a circle of drapes descended from above, surrounding the dais
and obscuring them from view. “Please,
have a seat.” Ade eased into the chair
but remained rigid, unwilling to relax and let down his guard. Duze did the same, and the two men eyed each
other, for what seemed like an age. Duze
broke the silence. “You understand my anger?” Ade frowned. “Of course. You set me, Anak and Heena up in business and
we turned you over. I wouldn’t exactly
be doing cartwheels myself.” Duze nodded slowly, his
features betraying nothing of his emotions. He
scrutinised Ade closely. “Why did you do it? Was it for the money? Or the thrill?” Ade stuck out his lower
lip and shook his head. “We found En’k’far treasure
worth twenty million credits. We had a fast
ship and a reason to leave. Heena seemed
insistent that we should make a break for it, so we did.
It was a snap decision.” Ade
paused and leaned forward in his comfortable seat. “But
I’d do it again.” Duze nodded. “Of course you would. Who wouldn’t? I would have.” Ade kept a stern face. That’s
nice to know. “Doesn’t make it right though, does
it?” “No, it doesn’t.” countered
Jostenn, snapping back, an edge lashing through his voice. “I trusted you three. As for Arkensaw, well. Nothing he ever does surprises me, even now
he’s heading the bounty hunters guild. And
Heena? I trusted her implicitly and look
where that got me.” He paused again and
eyed Ade closely. “But you
Lomona. I actually thought I could trust you, more than the others. You seemed to understand things better than
most. But even you turned out to be just
another crook.” Ade felt his stomach rise
into his mouth, the sting of nerves and guilt bringing bile to his throat. I
knew Duze thought I was okay, but not that much. Hell,
I really let him down… “You haven’t asked why I came
back.” Duze shrugged. “Should I?” He breathed out heavily. “I assume the money has gone?” Ade pulled out the credit
slips and receipts and tossed them onto the table. Duze
eyed them closely. “Every deci-credit. Did the galaxy on thirty credits a day, plus tips. Went from Rodia to Naboo and back again. And I’m glad I did, it’s one hell of a
galaxy out there. You could do some good
business if you knew the right people.” Duze raised his eyebrows
and grinned. “And I assume this is the part where
you tell me that you know the right people?” Ade shook his head. “No.
That’s not why I was out there. Like
I said, I wanted to see the galaxy and I did. But
not the galaxy that guys like you and me know, the real thing. Without guns and drugs and gang wars and
fear.” Ade grinned a half-grin. “Like I said, it’s a great place.” “So,” asked Duze, ignoring the
line of conversation. “Why did you come
back?” Ade looked upwards towards
the canopy covering overhead and slumped back in the seat.
What the hell do I say to that? The truth or the convenient lie? “Where do I start? Because I missed the place. It’s my home and it’s where I belong. Because I was tired of feeling like I was on the
run, sick of looking over my shoulder and finding nothing there but having to keep on
moving, just in case. Because when Anak
decided to come back I should have come with him, instead of spending the next eighteen
months kicking myself for being such a coward.”
He grinned widely. “Because
I’d run out of money.” He lost the
smile and reached into his jeans pocket as Duze watched closely, and no doubt other eyes
as well. He pulled free a piece of flim. “A letter-search from my older brother.” He handed it to Duze who took it. “Read it.” Duze opened the flim and
began to read the letter. He finished and
held the flim at his side as he thought for a few seconds.
Ade watched the thoughts wash over Jostenn as he digested the contents of the
letter-search. “When did this happen?” “Two months ago. It took six months to find me, they sent it as
soon as they knew. I was on Coruscant when it
arrived. You can imagine how surprised I was
when it dropped into my in-box.” Ade
cocked his head as he looked at Duze. “Now
do you understand why I came back?” “Yes I do.” He spoke slowly as he viewed the flim again.
“Yes I do.” Duze stood to his feet
and offered Ade his hand. With a cautious
glance Ade took it and the two men shook. “Congratulations Ade. You’re going
to be an uncle.” Duze smiled warmly, and
Ade returned it, still unsure whether it was genuine or a deception. “If I understand your customs, you choose the
child’s name. Have you chosen one?” Ade was impressed at
Duze’s knowledge of Desandian custom. It
was customary for the brother of the father to name the third-born child, as this boy
would be after Hijjin and Luude. And clearly
Duze realised what an honour that was for Ade. Lomona
thanked the skies that Jostenn was such an enlightened man. “I’m calling him Jan. It was my favourite uncles middle name.” “Jan Lomona.” said Duze quietly. “Not as catchy as Duze Lomona, but it will
do. Think he’ll be as much trouble as
his uncle?” “I sure hope not.” smiled Ade. He waited for Duze to sit and then leaned forward. “So, is that it? Are we okay?” Duze smiled, but this time
there was a wicked side to it. Oh, of course we are Ade. And hell is just a sauna… “Don’t cross your bridges before
you come to them. You have much to prove to
me. But lucky for you I’m a patient
man.” Ade nodded. He understood.
He was being given a second shot, a chance to do the right thing. And this time, if temptation came a calling, he
would try harder to make the proper choice. “How patient?” “Ade, finding forgiveness can sometimes
be as elusive as finding orchids in the snow. When
you do, the smart thing to do is not to question it.”
Duze raised an eyebrow. “You’re
back. That’s enough, for now.” Ade Lomona nodded in
understanding and smiled. He had much to
prove, to both Jostenn and to himself. And
also to a young infant on A-desando he had yet to meet, who without knowing it had given
him reason enough to return home. He made a
promise to himself that he would try to be a better man, do the right thing, and help
raise the boy to be the kind of Lomona he never was.
Honourable. Truthful. Honest. Decent. It was a long shot, but he
had to try. Orchids in the Snow 2002 short story by Mark Newbold Twenty-nine years
before Episode IV – A New Hope Histories – The story of Ade Lomona’s return
to Setnin after three years in exile. Brought
back by the news of his nephew Jan’s birth, Ade returned to patch up
his differences with Duze Jostenn, the pre-eminent ganglord of that era. Written by Mark Newbold, this tale tells us
much about the underworlds past, mainly that many of Glann Cipples main men once worked
for Jostenn and shifted their allegiance to the younger man when he made his play and took
Setnin for himself. Cast of Characters Ade Lomona Duze Jostenn Carlonian Feese Anak Arkensaw Beayance Trease Kenn St John Tunnil Fulle |