The Quiet City

1999 short story by Jonathan Hicks

Three years after Episode IV - A New Hope

 

 

 

Arach slowed his speeder down to a crawl and looked at the city in confusion.

Wennicas was an industrial planet nestled comfortably on a trade route through the Setnin Sector. Covered in low hills and sparse grasslands, the atmosphere, though almost always daylight from the planet’s axial tilt was always breezy with small showers every few days. This strange meteorological quirk kept the air smelling fresh and damp.

The city of Haipspa on the Great Haipspa Canyon was a collection of tall buildings design to taper at the top, with slots cut into their sides for transports and airspeeders. The city had been built on both sides of the canyon and as a result huge bridges had been constructed to connect the two halves. Besides this, the city had also spilled down into the canyon, with ridges constructed within the rock down to the bottom of the chasm which had been converted into a main thoroughfare connecting this city with the smelting facilities a hundred kilometres to the north. The huge towers rose from the gash in the planet like clawing vines stretching for the sun.

As ugly as the buildings were, Arach loved the city. He had lived on Wennicas for most of his life, combining his love for all things mechanical with his full-time occupation; he salvaged and dealt with spares for starships and speeders, modifications were an option and it was rumoured that if you needed it, Arach would get it.

A rumour which Arach started himself.

The bustle of the city was what had always attracted Arach. His salvage yard was a few kilometres out of Haipspa but he made sure he made the trip at least twice a turn. Supplies, business and entertainment. Haipspa had it all for Arach.

But at the moment all he could do was stare at the city in confusion.

When Arach crested the hill from his junkyard, he suddenly noticed something was absent, and as he approached the city he knew what it was; there was no sound. Small flying reptiles still cried out, the mammals in the bushes snorted and snuffled, the steam geysers to the south roared their fury. But that was it.

There were no sounds of any starships passing overhead, any work sirens blaring, the sounds of the great processor and generator pressure valves venting excess gases. No speeders passing, no Skyhopper's buzzing overhead. Just silence.

Arach slid his hand over his newly baldhead. He had become bored with his long thick hair, shaved it, and then immediately regretted it. Small hairs were already sprouting and it felt strange to the touch. He wiped his hand down his face to the small trimmed beard, which encircled his mouth, and he pursed his lips.

Weird.

Slowly he pressed the accelerator with his thumb and leaned forward in his seat. At a low speed he entered the outskirts of the city and scanned the low-lying residential buildings with his naked eyes.

All the doors and windows were closed. Storm shutters were sealed, blast doors to speeder pens were shut. No gas or steam drifted from ventilation ducts. No sound. No movement.

As Arach turned his head back to watch the road he saw something move, fast, across his path. In panic he slammed his feet down on the brake panel and stretched his arms against the steering wheel. With heart pounding and teeth gritted, he turned and came to a stop.

A two-legged baby Mnu-Mnu scurried over the road and into a small depression, where it snuffled, screeched and then ran off into the wilderness. Arach noticed it had a muzzle and lead, which flapped in the air behind it, as it fled. On it’s rump was its owner's stampmark.

His confusion soared to new heights as he watched the rapidly receding dust cloud. Gripping the steering wheel tightly, he turned the vehicle towards Haipspa. Now he scanned the buildings and the road ahead.

The streets were clean, with the odd small dust cloud whipped up by the breezes being channelled down the main entrance road. Houses and apartment buildings stood quiet, all windows and doors sealed or simply locked down. Some of the more extravagant security measures, consisting of shielding over every portal the building possessed, were activated and in place.

Road holograms still blazed, directing busy traffic that didn’t exist and informing the unknowledgable, in several different languages, where certain routes lead.

This told Arach that the city still had some form of power. He piloted the speeder at a liberal speed to reach the city centre where the huge trading malls had been built on the bridges stretching over the canyon. Those places were where the main hangars and communal complexes were located. Surely, he reasoned, if there was any sign of life it was going to be there.

As he passed the first few landing bays on the edge of the canyon, with the towering buildings rising above him, he noticed that the security doors were open showing the hangars empty. He frowned. Even the business hangars were empty, where traders were continually landing and taking off. These hangars were in use the whole time, they were busy even when trade was slow.

Again the streets were devoid of movement or any signs of life. Retail rooms were sealed and offices were locked up.

The trade halls and communal centres were as deserted as the rest of the city. Arach’s mind whirled with the possibilities as he clambered out of the speeder and entered one of the huge market domes, built near the very centre of the largest bridge. The area where Cart’s stand used to be was totally empty. Ju’rut’s stand area was oil-stained, as always, but empty. His friends had left, too. Where was everyone? The whole city, thousands of beings, just gone?

No one here. What happened? Evacuation? A fight? No signs of fighting. Some kind of emergency, a natural disaster? No, there would be people still here, warning the outskirts people, like me, of the danger. No warning signs, no calls.

   “Hello?” He called, his voice echoing around the hall with a strange deep resonance. He tried the call only once; as he heard his own voice reflected back at him he realised that if there was a danger, he didn’t want to attract it.

He walked from the hall and back out into the sunlight. Light drizzle began, and he let the refreshing moisture cover his face. He walked to the railing of the bridge and looked over, down into the chasm below and the rest of the city. He scanned the streets below but saw more of the same. Sealed doors shuttered windows. Lifeless.

   “Nobody’s home.”  He said to himself.

The sound of ringing metal on metal made him spin, staring down the roadway to the next trading hall. The sound echoed in the hall as his voice had, and the sound took on the effect of something scraping across the ground. Then silence, except for the fading resonance of the sound.

Arach quick-stepped to his speeder, pulling loose a rifle secured behind the driver’s seat. He checked the charge, set it to stun and slowly approached the hangar.

He felt his pulse quicken, sweat form droplets that overpowered the moisture on his face. He admitted to himself, he was scared. The city had never seemed so... alien to him.

He peeked around the door of the hall rifle first, and saw a metal container lying on the floor, lid off, contents spilled over the ground. A form, humanoid, was cowered over the contents and was hastily stuffing large pockets with what appeared to be out-of-date foodpacks. As he stepped into the light coming through the door his shadow fell on the figure and it stood and spun quickly.

A Devaronian, his sharp-toothed mouth curled into a snarl, his coiling horns from his head protruding at different angles, his red face pockmarked and grazed. Clothes ragged and torn, several ripped garments hanging over withered bones. Arach recognised him for a dirter straight away, not from his appearance but his smell. Dirters were the beings who had come to Haipspa seeking work but found only poverty in the darker reaches of the lower chasm.

The Devaronian glared at Arach, clutching foodpacks to his chest protectively, but when he saw the rifle in his hands he panicked even though the weapon wasn’t pointed in his direction.

One hand came up placatingly, stretched out to Arach palm out, foodpacks dropping to the floor.

   “No.”  He growled, his voice gravely and wavering.

Arach realised how threatening he must appear, and lowered the weapon so that it was behind him.

   “No, wait don’t worry, wait...”

The Devaronian, however, was backing off.

   “Hungry, just hungry. No-one wants this, I’m not a thief, please...”

   “I’m not going to hurt you, just tell me, what... where is everyone, what’s...?”

   “Get out.” The Devaronian stammered. “They’re coming, coming. Run. Get out!” The alien was almost hysterical now, dropping the packs as he started to back away.

   “Who? Who is coming?”

With a whimper and a sudden spin, the Devaronian turned and ran off for the far exit.

   "They’re coming!” He screamed, his voice starting more echoes that Arach winced at. He watched helplessly as the alien bolted for the door, passed through and vanished. All he could hear then were his footsteps receding into the distance.

Although the alien had been none too helpful and his information cryptic, his panic had been all too informative. Someone was coming, someone who had terrified the citizens and cleaned out an entire city.

Arach started contemplating what the threat may be when he noticed a low reverberating under his feet. The resonance was sequential, the tremors sudden and evenly spaced. He looked about in confusion, and then headed outside. A quake? Maybe the citizens had evacuated because of a tectonic warning? He headed back to the speeder, making up his mind to get out of the city and try and contact one of the other settlements for information.

A glint of sunlight reflecting off a bright surface caught his eye, down in the chasm, far up the canyon. He squinted at the light as it flickered and he slowly approached the railing.

Unclipping a small macroscope from his belt he held it up to his eye and zoomed the visual receptor to where the light was coming from. The enhanced image clarified as the light dimmed and he zeroed in on the object the light was bouncing off.

A huge object, a quadruped, its head waving from side to side as it lumbered along. Huge. As Arach looked at it the picture cleared and he swallowed hard.

An Imperial AT-AT, the huge lumbering four-legged war machine of the Galactic Empire, was slowly walking up the canyon. Heavy assault cannons bristled from its head, and as it came fully into sight he saw another one coming up behind it. At their feet were smaller objects; AT-ST's, the smaller two legged versions of the huge battle engines, quick-stepped along with speeder bikers flanking them.

For some reason, Arach couldn’t take his eyes off the approaching Imperials. So large. So powerful. With every step the ground under his feet shook.

He turned from the railing and walked quickly back to his speeder. His hands were tingling and his teeth were grinding. His mind worked furiously. Suddenly, he had been seized with the need to leave the city.

Like everyone else.

Over the far railing of the huge bridge he could make out more shapes coming down from the opposite side of the city. More AT-AT’s and their support. The rumbling under his feet had become almost constant. And then the sounds from the sky began.

His head snapped up. Landing ships were coming down in the hangars, huge troop transports and small three-winged shuttles. As they began their descent, TIE fighters screamed overhead, some passing below under the bridge. Smaller combat vessels dropped down into the streets, mainly outside the councillor's offices and the policing department. As soon as landing gear touched plastcrete, pressure doors unsealed and boarding ramps dropped. Arach watched, rooted to the spot, stupefied even, as white armoured Stormtroopers emerged, spreading out, covering every part of the areas they landed on. The first few just stood around the ships, the next few moving out to cover key points in the streets, and then yet more marching down the ramps in order. Grey uniformed officers followed them down and looked around the area casually. They pointed in certain directions and the Stormtroopers responded immediately to their instructions.

Scouts on speeder bikes flew past, shocking Arach out of his amazement. They spared him casual glances as they headed out into the city. A tall AT-ST began walking down the ramp of one of the larger transports and started walking down the street towards him, Stormtroopers running behind it. Arach suddenly realised he still had his rifle in his hand and quickly threw it into his speeder. He walked around and pressed himself up against the vehicle as the AT-ST walked past. The following Stormtroopers passed also, the odd one looking at him but then turning their attention somewhere else. They walked so close to him he could have stuck his foot out and tripped one. The thought actually came to mind and he grinned to himself, trying to suppress his shock.

An officer began to walk across the street, looking intently at a datapad. As he stood back to allow an armoured personnel carrier to pass he looked over at Arach. Arach looked away, trying to ignore his gaze, but the officer lowered his pad and started to walk over.

   “I thought this city was going to be deserted.” The officer said, one hand dropping to his gunbelt where he hooked his thumb. “What are you doing here?”

Arach stammered. He couldn’t think of anything to say and he blurted out.

   “I... I came in to buy a new plasma welder.”

The officer smiled his perfect teeth white against his tanned skin. He pointed over at a deserted hardware shop on the other side of the street.

   “Help yourself.”  He said, laughed at his own joke, and then crossed over the street.

Arach slowly climbed into his speeder, started it up and slowly turned it down the road.

A Blaster shot made him snap his head around, and as he passed an alley opening he saw the Devaronian lying face down in his pile of foodpacks, his back smouldering. He had a long metal pipe held tightly in his hand, and as the scene went out of view Arach saw two Stormtroopers materialising out of the darkness with weapons ready. Several other troopers ran to the scene to investigate. Arach forced his gaze back to the road and did his best to ignore the body.

At a sedate pace he drifted back the way he had come, slowing at intervals to allow squads of Stormtroopers to pass or heavy armament to pull out of hangar bays. As he headed back into the residential district he saw Stormtroopers doing house-to-house searches, Imperial technicians deactivating security locks and the troopers entering the buildings and searching. Every building was under scrutiny, even their adjoining garages and smaller constructs. The Stormtroopers methodically went through every centimetre of the street.

But they ignored him. Every now and then he would have to slow as more troopers and vehicles choked the road, but then a Stormtrooper would wave him on. He finally reached the outer buildings and then accelerated into the wilderness of Wennicas.

The Empire! Here! He knew that the government of Wennicas were in talks with the Empire to supply industrial goods, but from what he had heard recently the talks had broken down after uncompromising demands from the Imperial war machine. Had the talks failed so badly that it had caused military action? He couldn’t believe it. Why? If the Empire took control of Wennicas it was obvious what would happen. Taxes, oppression, virtual slave labour for the poor souls in the workstations. He shook his head in sadness. Maybe it was time to load his business on his ship and get off this planet.

The last hill loomed above him, on the other side was his junkyard, his livelihood for these past few years. He sighed as he approached.

Just before the crest he saw another speeder, one he recognised. Huge modified thruster engines and garish paintwork, pennants fluttering from numerous communication antennae. It was Cart’s speeder.

His Rodian friend stood out in the road, waving his arms frantically. Arach slammed his brakes on and stood in the cockpit.

   “Cart!”  He shouted. “What the hell is going on?”

   The Rodians voice, hoarse and whispery, came out in a rush. His language was one that Arach understood.

   “I’ve been waiting for you. Talks broke down between the guild and the Empire,” Cart explained. “Any excuse. Any excuse for the Empire to take over. The guild told the populace and they got out of there, fast. Wouldn’t you?”

Arach nodded.

   “I don’t believe it. I just... where is everyone?”

   “Well...”

   “No time, anyway. I’ve got to get my ship packed up and out of here before the troops start scouring the area. Do you now how much of my merchandise is illegal?”

Cast appeared worried.

   “There might be a problem there, Arach.”

   “What do you mean?” Arach suddenly felt very nervous.

   “Well, you know you’re junkyard is built over the area’s only fresh water outlet?”

Arach slammed his rear end back down into the pilot’s seat and hit the accelerator. The Rodian called after him but he ignored the shouts for him to wait.

   “No, no, no.” He mumbled, and crested the hill.

There was his junkyard.

And all around were makeshift tents, collapsible shelters, energy fields protecting the refugees of the city from the elements. Thousands upon thousands of refugees, hundreds of species, camped around the outer walls and the inner yard, around the base of his ship and virtually filling the plain his junkyard was situated on. Hundreds of beings, milling, swarming. He heard shouts of friends, the laughter of children, calls from official looking people trying to maintain order in the chaos.

Arach slowly stood and looked at the masses.

   “Oh dear" He said.

 


The Quiet City

1999 short story by Jonathan Hicks

Three years after Episode IV - A New Hope

 

 

Histories - Set in and around the Empire's invasion of the planet Wennicas, this short story by Jonathan Hicks tells of some of the trials and tribulations that befall the junker and all round good guy Arach Raynor.  Set not long after the events of Episode V - The Empire Strikes Back, this story shows the beginnings of the massive Imperial push into the Setnin Sector - and their intent on gaining revenge for their huge losses at the Battle of Mantin.

 

Cast of Characters

 

Arach Raynor

Cast

Ju'rut