The Chance of Promotion 2000 short story by Jonathan Hicks Five years before Episode IV –
A New Hope Sand drifted around Suselow’s feet as the speeder floated past, sunlight reflecting into her eyes off the two ‘droids sat precariously on the back of it. She smiled knowingly as Imperial Stormtroopers waved them to a stop, and she slipped into a side alley as a huge pack animal was led past her and she used the size of the beast to move out of sight of the cowled figure that had been following her since she had left the cantina. She quick-stepped down the alley,
all the while watching over her shoulder, keeping an eye out for her tail. As she turned
the next corner, she spared a glance back and saw the pursuer looking around for her
hopelessly, his left claw always tucked into the back of his cloak as if ready with a
weapon, which Suselow was sure he was. She pulled her own blaster from its
holster as she saw the graffiti on the wall next to her - Statoone territory. These furred
yet reptilian scavenger beasts had proclaimed this block of sand-coloured buildings as
their own, trading with outsiders and dealing savagely with anyone who trespassed. Suselow
rubbed the crusting sand from her eyes and her short dark hair and advanced. The alleyway she was in was wide
and filled with refuse, the stench almost unbearable. She walked slowly, scanning every
doorway and window, balcony and walkover. It seemed quiet, except for the sounds of the
bustling street and the calls and cackles of creatures she didn’t know the name of. When things seemed clear, from
pursuers, scrutinizers or otherwise, she holstered the pistol and took the small silver
whistle from her pocket. She blew into it, unable to hear the sound but knowing it would
attract the attention of the Statoone. Attract them it did. Almost
immediately doors and windows were flung open, and the short beings from the worlds of the
red sun descended on her. She stood her ground as she was surrounded by blasters and force
weapons.
“Where did you geet thaat?” said the stockiest of the Statoone. His
fluorescent tattoos seemed to swirl with a life of their own, even in the shade that was
still brightly lit by Nogard’s sun.
“One of your kind gave it to me. She said that if I called you with this I
wouldn’t be dismembered on sight.” Suselow shifted slightly to recompose her
stance, ready for combat. She was already worried by the increase of Imperial activity on
Nogard and didn’t want any unwanted attention from Stormtroopers if she was forced to
fire her weapon.
“Shee waas wise to waarn you oof uus,” said stocky, “wee doo not
tolerate outsideers.”
“I know. Look, I’ve already lost two tails this morning and I would like
to get this over and done with. Whatever it is you have for me to get back to Dressel on
Cawbate has attracted a lot of competition, some of which I’ve seen operate
before.” Stocky nodded, and motioned to a
dark-furred being next to her. Dark fur swung up a ladder and into an upper window.
“Wee doo not know whaat this is. Since it came intoo our possession wee haave
loost maany oof our number. It appears thaat many wish too own it.” Dark fur returned quickly, and
began to pass a black unmarked box to Suselow. His chest exploded at the same
time. Smoke and the smell of burning wood filled her nostrils as the body of the
unfortunate Statoone flew forward. Suselow’s eyes shot upward as she caught the
tumbling box and she saw the cowled figure that had been trailing her, with several
others, on the opposite roof. A smoking weapon of some sort was in his left claw. Suselow
didn’t recognise the weapon, hadn’t even heard it discharge. She took a step
back towards the shadows.
“Don’t bother, Suselow,” the figure said, a sharp-toothed grin
almost splitting his face in two. “You and your little friends are surrounded. Just
give me the box and I’ll scratch gravel. Just the box.” The box? Suselow despaired. What have I gotten into here? What the hell is so
important about it? The Statoone went into defensive
postures and raised their weapons, eliciting a violent response from the cowled figure and
his cohorts. Blaster bolts screamed down into the alley, striking the reptiles and
throwing them in all directions. Their return fire was weak and ill-aimed and thin beams
of low-power energy passed wide of the intended targets. Suselow knew better than to back a
loser and started to turn for the alley entrance, only to see Stormtroopers advancing to
investigate the weapon noise. Her only alternative was to head down the alley. Past Statoone being slaughtered and
right under the attackers. The sound of the Stormtrooper squad
leader shouting for order made up her mind for her; better to be shot to death by Cowl and
his friends than fall into Imperial hands and lose the box to them. She did not know the
importance of the box but she was sure of one thing. People were willing to kill for it. In large numbers. Her legs threw her down the alley
as more shots exploded around her. The Statoone, defiant to the last, stood their ground
but their attempt was cut short as the Stormtroopers, their shouts for order ignored,
dropped to their knees and opened fire on anything that moved. All around her was
pandemonium. Statoone screaming and dying, blaster bolts erupting all around her,
Stormtroopers choosing their targets and putting their quarry down. The alley was thick
with smoke and noise. As Suselow passed under Cowl’s
position and dived to the door that was recessed into the wall she pulled off a snapshot
upwards. She heard a satisfying thump and a groan, and as she burst into the room beyond
the door she also heard someone crash to the ground, evidently falling from the roof. The room was sparsely furnished
with many stained sleeping mats covering the floor. She ignored the screams of three
female Statoone and hurled herself at the open window leading out into the street. She hit
the floor and rolled, causing some passers by to move from her with exclamations. She
picked herself up, dusted off her clothes and did her best to appear calm. Quickly, she
slipped into the crowds, leaving the blasters and the shouts echoing behind her. It took her nearly an hour to reach
her hotel room. The squat was as dirty as the Statoone hovel she had burst in on but it
served her purpose. It was out of the way and she was short of funds, anyway, as she
awaited the chance to buy passage off the planet. The box. The box seemed to glare at
her, unadorned, unmarked. It was a simple affair with a small catch that released the
spring-loaded lid. It would be easy to... ...no! Dressel had employed her to simply pick up the
box and get it back to him. It was just a small item and it would be her ticket into the
heart of Dressel’s organisation. It was, after all, her first important job for him
after months of service and he would make sure she had followed his instructions. But still, there was no obvious
alarm system. It wasn’t locked, it wasn’t sealed in any way and as far as she
could see it was simply what it appeared. A box. Would he know? After all, she had
just risked her life for this small item so she deserved to look. But Dressel... But the box...
"Damn!” she cursed and slammed
her fist into the wall. Through gritted teeth she stared at the box. “Your curiosity
will kill you, girl.” She shrugged. Quickly she scooped up the box and
checked it over for any kind of sensor. After she satisfied herself it wasn’t
trapped, she flicked the catch and allowed the lid to spring up. She narrowed her eyes, expecting
something to happen, but the box did nothing except give a small hiss as its apparent
vacuum seal was split. Inside was a small folded flimsy. And nothing else. People have been dying over a flimsy? She thought in confusion and,
making sure her gloves wouldn’t leave any marks on the plastic sheet, took it out and
unfolded it. With shock she stared at the title of the written material, which had been
scribed in basic. Dear Suselow. She shook her head. Oh, stang. Dear Suselow. If you’re reading
this then you have successfully recovered the black box from the Statoone and now have it
in your possession. I made sure that the box was known throughout circles of its
importance to me, and as you know, what is dear to one ganglord is a danger to others. No
doubt you have been in competition to get this box. Congratulations for getting to it
first. Unfortunately, you reading this also
means that you have given into temptation and opened the box. I gave instructions that you
were to return this to me promptly, with no delay. The contents were none of your concern.
You opening the box has invalidated your chances of working for me. I need personnel who
do what I bid and nothing else. Don’t bother re-sealing the box and returning it to
me. I vacuum sealed it and filled it with a harmless gas that is now evaporated. I’ll
know if you have opened this box. If someone else opened it then your lack of skill is
evident. You failed to acquire it before whoever had it opened it. You’re fired. Dressel. Suselow stared at the flimsy and
then screwed it up in her fist. Besides the danger she had faced and the fact that she was
now unemployed, she still found it difficult not to smile.
The Chance of Promotion 2000 short story by Jonathan Hicks Five years before Episode IV –
A New Hope Histories – This short tale tells of Suselow, an employee of
both Glann Cipple and Dressel, before her retirement from the smuggling game and her work
for Trace Dallagra on Chancai. For a time a
successful operator for Cipple, Suselow never quite managed to live up to that reputation
for Dressel, hence her decision to leave that career behind.
Cast of Characters Suselow |