The Heat

2003 short story by Mark Newbold and Paul Squire

Thirty-seven years after Episode IV – A New Hope

Tannis Rixx gazed out of the window of his palatial headquarters and made a mental note never to take the view for granted.  In a crazy sector like the one he lived in, when so many billions were fighting for their lives, that he should be here in the heart of luxury and splendour was ludicrous.  After all, hadn’t he recently been elected leader of the Setnin Defence Force to fight for the Setnin Sector?  Against oppression and tyranny and all the dark trappings of invasion and evil?  Indeed he had, and the warrior heart of the Janite beat a fierce rhythm as he struggled with the dichotomy.  While he currently existed in comfortable surroundings, his spirit and essence were battling his mortal enemies on every battlefield of every planet that had fallen to the Ki-Ki.

And that was many worlds, and many battlefields.  In his previous lives, first as Janos Executioner and loyal servant of the Emperor Priest, then as traveller and student of the galaxy, as smuggler and operative for the Cipple sisters and now as leader of the S.D.F, he had learned much.  In fact, he’d learned all he could possibly need to know about people, life and how to live it.  The fate of billions of Setnin citizens had been entrusted to him, and he had been elected to lead the resistance.  Rixx was proud to have been chosen to lead that fight, but also wary.  He knew what a scapegoat was, and the scarred face that greeted him in the mirror every morning looked uncomfortable like one.  He was determined not to be just another victim, determined to dig out a victory and free the sector from the grip of the Ki-Ki…

He just wasn't sure how he was going to do it.

Granted, he was a warrior, and a skilled one at that. He felt no braggart in stating the fact, because it was simply that - fact.  To be a Janos Executioner required a level of intensive training unsurpassed in soldiering.  Perhaps Ferrereans possessed superior reflexes, but that was a natural attribute.  Maybe the winged Hellions carried a savage heart that could not be quenched. And Glann Cipples famed Shadow Warriors were honed to a level of skill that came close, but for raw ability and doggedness the Executioners were unrivalled.  Once a man had a Janos Executioner on his tail, he was a rare breed that evaded and survived their attentions.  Tannis had marked many a being for such close scrutiny. 

All but one was dead in an unmarked grave.

A strong gust of wind blew past the window, and Rixx noticed the distant birds struggling against the wind.  He smiled, an action that didn’t come easily to him.  He could readily identify with his avian neighbours, up here on the higher levels of Chancai.  The Trade Centre felt as safe a haven from the madness of war as one could ever wish to find, but Tannis knew from experience that the safest hiding hole was usually the most treasured prize for the enemy.  He was well aware that Zelon, the heart of the Setnin Sector, was a target and therefore under threat, and as he watched the birds pitch and wheel in the wind he steadied himself for the distinct possibility of the Ki-Ki/Setnin War landing on his doorstep.  No, not a possibility, inevitability.  Rixx wasn’t much for speculation.  He balanced the odds, weighed them up and made measured conclusions.  More often than not he was correct in his estimations, a fact brought to the attention of the S.D.F when they were struggling to find a new man to lead them.  Rixx fitted the profile, and he was proud to accept.  But at times such as this, watching the elements cause havoc with the state of nature he felt as if he should have said no, and brandished a sword in the face of the murderous Ki-Ki, beckoning them on to have at him…

The shrill buzzing of his comm broke him from his thoughts and he turned to face the door.  It slid silently open, revealing his 11.00 appointment.  The man strode into the room, acknowledged Rixx with a curt nod and stood next to him by the panoramic window.  Tannis eyed him closely, and turned back to the vista.  Ryath Centaur spoke.

   “Progress?”

Rixx squinted his eye slightly in discomfort and straightened his back as the wind eased outside.

   “Reports.  Documents detailing Ki-Ki movements, troop numbers, positions, estimates.  Enough flims to sink a battleship.  But progress?”  He shook his head, his mouth a grim line.  “Only if progress can be measured in backward steps.”

Ryath lowered his eyes to the floor.  From where he stood, as leader of the Iron Claw mercenary outfit, he had seen enough devastation caused by the Ki-Ki to hammer even his own proud spirit into the ground.  Along with friends and colleagues in different professions he knew that the situation was grim.  The Ki-Ki were narrowing trade routes, making commerce difficult.  Rationing was being enforced on certain worlds, a measure not seen in Setnin for centuries.  And morale was low.  For Setnin folk, that was the worst humiliation.

That and the realisation that there may very well not even be a Setnin within a few short weeks.

   “My Galactic Alliance spies tell me that Setnin Command are keeping a close eye Ki-Ki activity.”

Rixx kept his head fixed straight ahead as he processed the news.

   “But they won’t intervene?”

Ryath gave Rixx a weary look.

   “You know damn well they won’t.”  Ryath turned and walked to the desk.  “Ever since the Ki-Ki took Euphoria Station, we’ve been on the run.  That station was a prime tactical staging post for us.  Our prime defence factions had elements there. Now it’s been taken we’ve lost a central location to make plans and spy on enemy movements.”  Centaur seated himself.  “We’re fighting blind.”

   “And the invasion proceeds.” said Rixx, almost to himself.  He lifted a batch of flims from the desk and handed them to Centaur.  “I received these this morning. A gift, from the Raven Corporation.”  He cocked his head as he eyed Ryath.  “This Raven Corporation.  Do you trust them?”

Rixx watched Centaur closely as he shuffled the flims and pondered the question.  He had respect for the mercenary leader, for his abundance of abilities and depth of tactical knowledge as well as his eagerness to throw his mercenary units operations facilities fully behind the fight against the Ki-Ki.  For a mercenary, a breed usually hired out to the highest bidder, Rixx found this unusual.  And his distrust of the Raven Corporations motives made Centaurs opinion a valued one.  Rixx saw many similarities between himself and Centaur, and in a way saw Ryath’s views as a confirmation of his own.  Not that they always agreed, and with two such strong wills vying for dominance their relationship was…fractious, to say the least.  But always of great use.

   “I’ve learned not to trust anybody these days.  Especially those so eager to ingratiate themselves.”  Ryath rubbed his chin.  “I’m told that Lord Raven is a good man, but prone to flashes of anger.  The Lady Raven I know less about, although Jan Lomona has had dealings with her in the past.  You ask if they’re to be trusted?”  He shook his head.  “I’m inclined to say no.  They’ve yet to choose a side.”  He looked directly at Rixx.  “They have spies everywhere, in the Iron Claws, the Trac-Tran Transit Company, Benesk.”  He motioned out of the window to the pale sliver glint of the moon of Benesk above, where the Chamber of Systems lay.  Rixx followed his eyes and nodded, walking back to the window as he did.  “Raven knows the path of this war better than anyone, maybe even the Ki-Ki.  They’re waiting for a victor to become apparent before they pledge their allegiance.”

   “Politics is more trouble than I imagined.”

Ryath agreed.

   “Get used to it.  This is the blunt end.”

   “And the sharp?”

Centaur sat forward on his seat as Rixx watched from the window.

   “That’s when you have the people on your back baying for blood, and you don’t know how to satisfy them.”

Rixx leaned back, his hand running over the hilt of the ceremonial Janite blade that never left his side.

   “Blood I understand.  Politics I don’t.”

   “With respect, maybe you need to forgo the politics and stick with what you know.  You were elected to fight a war, not run for public office.  If popularity contests won wars then Luke Skywalker would have been elected Supreme Chancellor by now.”

Rixx twitched, his eyes and nostrils flaring as he turned from the view to face Centaur, his voice rising in intensity and volume.

   “And what would you have me do?  Take this sword to Benesk and threaten the delegates?  I need consensus, not conflict.”

Ryath smiled inwardly and stood to his feet, leaning across the desk.

   “What you need is to tell Benesk what you intend to do and stop tip-toeing around.  You were chosen to lead, but all you’ve done for two months is shuffle through flims and reports.”  He came around the desk.  “People are dying.  You were picked to lead because you’re a fighter.  Well fight, dammit!”  Ryath allowed himself the freedom of losing his temper, and took another step towards the Janite.  “Because if you don’t, the Ki-Ki will.”  He threw a thumb towards a holomap that was shimmering in the corner of the office.  “Look at the ground they’ve taken already.  If we don’t come up with a plan soon they’ll be right here,” he slapped the desk hard to underline his point.  “Chancai will be taken and Setnin will never be free again.”  He waited for a second to allow his words to sink in with Rixx.  “So ask yourself.  Do you fight the Ki-Ki or do you fight Benesk?”

Rixx was breathing in short, furious stabs, his pulse racing like a speeder, his skin damp and hot.  He fixed Ryath with a look of intent.

   “My two months in office may well have been unproductive to you Centaur, but there is more going on here than you know.  I once thought as you do, until I took up office.”  He snorted in a derisory manner and placed his palms against the glass.  “Then I saw the undertow.  The wheels within wheels that have placed this sector into such grave danger.”  His voice rose in volume again.  “Do you think I want to be sitting here, reading reports of death, invasion and destruction?  I’m a Janite!  I live for battle.  It’s in my blood.  And yet every plan, every tactic I have conceived has been rejected.  I feel like I’ve been sidelined, but for what reason I cannot fathom.”

Ryath pushed on, his intensity not wavering one iota.

   “Granted, I don’t know the details of your situation.  But you are here to do a job.  I believe you can accomplish this, and clearly so do certain elements of the S.D.F.  But why do I feel like it’s you who lacks the confidence in your abilities?”

Rixx frowned and pushed himself off the glass, facing Ryath with anger flashing across his features.

   “My abilities are as much a part of me as my eyes and my ears and my soul.  I am a Janos Executioner!  I was sculpted by my instructors to be an implement of war. I know my skills and my limits!”  He paused for just a second, his anger threatening to boil over as he held himself back from lashing out.  “Never question my resolve again.  Ever.  But you are right, I was chosen to lead, and lead I will.  But first I need the support of the Setnin Council behind me.  Then I can lead without the spectre of doubt hanging over my head.”

   “You need a majority, nothing more.  And it doesn’t matter how unpopular you have to be to get it, now’s the time to fight dirty.”

   “I appear to be fighting both sides.”

   “You are.  Every war consists of battles.  This is just one of them.”

Ryath took a subtle step back.  Finally Rixx was angry enough to allow the red mist to descend and corner the Ki-Ki into a box of hate.  But before he could make the Ki-Ki the sole object of his attentions he had to resolve the interference of the Council in his mind.  Ryath allowed the atmosphere to cool a notch as he returned to his seat and took a calming breath.   

“Ultimately I’m here as an advisor.  We can run ideas by each other and hack the details out all day, but ultimately it’s you who has the final word.”  He waited for the message to get across.  “The S.D.F elected you as their leader.  So lead them.”

Rixx didn’t turn from the window or answer the subtle challenge.  He silently watched the pale sliver of Benesk above as the noon sun rose to its zenith.  He had ideas, plans and tactics in abundance, but they were so extreme they would make the Setnin Defence Force question the wisdom of electing him into leadership.  After all, he was a Janite, an Executioner, and the more the war raged, the more he felt that aspect of his past bubble towards the surface.  Perhaps it was the only way he could muster the strength to fight the Ki-Ki.  As an Executioner, he had fought mean and dirty, did whatever was required to gain advantage and victory.  But after travelling the galaxy and working for the Cipple sisters, he had learned to quell that instinctive urge to attack and never ask questions.

But he knew he needed to lose that restraint, as much for himself as for the sake of the Setnin Sector.  In any other situation he would have took pride in it, seen it as a growth, a development in his character.  For a Janite he was hyper enlightened, and saw his brethren as culturally stunted.  But right now he envied them their savagery.  He needed that cruel emotional abandon, more than he ever thought he would.  With the fate of the sector entrusted to him, it was the only way to win.

Ryath didn’t interrupt Rixx’s silence, his own mind awash with thoughts and ideas.  As a leader of many in an outfit like the Iron Claws he sometimes had the necessity to send his employees in to dangerous situations.  They knew the risks before they signed on, and were all skilled, professional soldiers.  But on occasion, especially in recent years, when he knew that they were embarking on probable suicide missions, he felt all the weight and responsibility of leadership fall on his shoulders.  He’d been a military man most of his life, first as a Colonel in the Empire, then assisting the Rebel Alliance, to varying degrees, and later as a mercenary.  But always the same pressures weighed down on him.  He could only imagine the levels of responsibility that weighed down on Tannis Rixx.

But Ryath knew that time was of the essence, and now was not the time for hesitancy and pondering.  Men were elected to lead, and Tannis Rixx was nothing if not a leader.  All he needed was the spark to light his ideas.

Rixx folded his hands behind his back, running a loose hand over the hilt of his beloved sword.  He frowned as he watched another transport leave Chancai, bound for either a profitable run or a run for its life.

   “I do have a plan.  But I believe it’s too hard-line for the Setnin Council to even contemplate.”

   “How do you know?” asked Centaur.

   “I regularly meet with department heads, representatives from various factions and organisations.  We have a loose alliance at work here.  Some will not come along with us unless they are satisfied what I am doing is viable.  I’m still learning politics.”  He paused as Ryath nodded.  “But I fear not quickly enough to persuade them to instigate my tactics and ideas.”

   “What’s your plan?”

Rixx narrowed his eyes and drew a deep breath.  He needed to be composed and collected to explain his plan.  It really was that audacious.

   “Janos has many enemies, everyone from the Outer Rim to Coruscant knows that.  But what if I were to tell you that I have secretly begun overtures that would see an alliance spring up between Janos and her two most reviled enemies?  The formation of an army the likes of which the Setnin Sector has never seen?”  Tannis turned to Ryath and was greeted with a face awash with surprise and admiration.

   “You’ve contacted the Ferrereans and the Hellions?”

Rixx nodded.

   “A month ago I sent an envoy to Ferrerea.  The initial reception was hostile, but after cautious negotiations the Ferrereans came to see my point of view.  It was then that I myself travelled to Ferrerea and began nailing down the plan.  From there we journeyed to Hellion, through the Ki-Ki Third line, where we held similar talks that went well.”  Rixx half-smiled as he watched Ryaths features crease from surprise to consternation.  “At this very moment Ferrerean and Hellion negotiators are making battle plans.  Detailing troop numbers and ship movements.  All that remains is to persuade the Janites to join.”

Ryath frowned openly at this.  Surely the Janite leader of the Setnin Defence Force would secure his own peoples loyalty before daring to approach the Ferrereans?  Wouldn’t he?

   “Do you honestly think Janos will join the fight?  More Janites remain loyal to the Ki-Ki than to Setnin.”

Rixx shook his head and sat down heavily, a weary demeanour descending upon him.  Ryath remained standing and watched.

   “You people never understood our position, did you?  None of you could see that what Janos did seven years ago was intended as a wake-up call to the rest of the sector, precisely because we could see this occurring.”

Centaur shook his head in confusion.

   “What occurring?”

   “The invasion of Setnin by an aggressive force.  The New Republic was the worst thing to happen to Setnin since the end of the Clone Wars.  Why?  Because Setnin rescinded her independence, gave too much responsibility to other organisations.  And look at what happened.  While Janos could see the envious eyes of neighbouring sectors, those fools on Benesk sat back and wallowed in the protection of the Galactic Alliance.  And that protection never appeared.”  Rixx fixed Ryath with a steely gaze.  “History will judge Janos well.  We stood first to protect Setnin.  Tragic that our Emperor Priest should be so easily coerced by the Minds of the Ki-Ki.”  He raised an eyebrow as he measured his next few words.  “Tragic that our Emperor Priest must die for Janos to join the fight.”

   “Die?”  Centaur paused, collecting his thoughts into rational packs of information.  Of course he’d have to die.  Janite pride would brook no other ending.  Akallon the Fourth had to be removed and a new, more enlightened leader installed.  Perhaps then the world of Janos could spring to the aide of the sector.  Rixx watched Ryath again, patiently allowing him time to thread his way through the intricacies of Janite tradition and legal process.  After all, Centaur knew the Janites as well as anybody.

   “So you see, I have much work to do.  After persuading my kinsmen to join our crusade I must then sway the politicians.”  He spun the chair around.  “Give me a sword and a hundred enemies any day.”

Centaur couldn’t think of an answer to that that wouldn’t sound trite or contradictory.  He often felt the same way when having to deal with bureaucrats. 

   “You’ve clearly invested a lot of time and effort into this plan already, and it appears sound.  But why seek my opinion?”

Rixx grimaced, a sarcastic-laced smirk tracing his thin lips.

   “Because I value it.  You have a warriors mind, and that’s useful.  But despite my best efforts I can’t help but feel pessimistic about our fate.  Certain parties like this invasion too much.” 

Centaur narrowed his eyes.

   “What makes you say that?”

   “Don’t you wonder why the Galactic Alliance never got involved?”

Ryath had spent many nights thinking that same thought over the past few years, as the war raged through the sector.  For an organisation that had stood against the darkness of the Empire, grown from a scrabble of rag-tag units into an army capable of defeating the establishment and installing itself as the new leadership they were alarmingly slow in stepping up and defending a region of space largely loyal to the Alliance.  As the Republic had been subverted to become the Empire, so Setnin was slowly metamorphisizing into the Ki-Ki.  Of course, Ryath knew the mentality of the Galactic Alliance, as well as he’d known the thought processes of the Imperial machine.  Coruscant didn’t want to start a war in the Mid-Rim, and taking sides between the Ki-Ki and Setnin sectors would have done just that.  As strong and proud as she was, Setnin was envied by many of her neighbours.  Few would shed as little as a tear at her demise. Indeed, many would assist it.  As a result, the Galactic Alliance sat on the sidelines of the invasion as observers, refereeing the conflict but never getting their hands dirty.

Which made Centaurs blood boil.

He knew well the corridors of power.  Seething with inept types, corruption rife and plenty.  Even after all these years he still couldn’t fathom how such swiftly corruptible characters could wend their way into positions of power when there were men and women willing to lay their lives down for freedom.  While he was never a supporter of the Alliance, his Imperial training and leanings still strong, he had grown to view their fight as a valiant and well fought one, and for that he respected them.  No more.  This antipathy was no more than cowardice in his eyes, and their reticence at helping members of their own Alliance sickened him.  If he could think of a way to bring them into the war he would.  Leadership was for the strong and the worthy, and the Galactic Alliances actions were examples of neither of those traits.  They didn’t deserve the loyalty of Setnin, but he was sure that once the fighting was over they would once again command it, citing charters and treaties as good reason to do so.

Ryath turned back to Rixx.

  “Yes, many times.”  He paused.  He knew his own thoughts on the subject but was curious to learn of Rixx’s opinion.  “What are your thoughts?”

Rixx lowered his eyes, staring at the hard tabletop for a few moments before answering. 

   “My Janite heart tells me cowardice, as I suspect yours does.”  Ryath nodded slowly.  “But I believe there is much more to it than that.  I have no proof,” he started as he once again stood from the desk.  Centaur followed him with his eyes as he walked back to the window and the magnificent vista it offered.  “I believe the Galactic Alliance have a spy in their organisation.  A Ki-Ki spy.”

Ryath nodded, unsurprised by the revelation.  Every organisation had its spies, as their experiences with the Raven Corporation bore out.  But who could possibly infiltrate the Galactic Alliance at such a level as to influence their involvement in a sector spanning war?

   “Do you know who?” asked Ryath.  Rixx shook his head wearily.

   “Believe me, if I did we would not be merely talking about this.”

Ryath watched a phalanx of vessels rise into the atmosphere above the huge trade centre, easing into the steady flow of traffic away from the monolithic building and raised a steel grey eyebrow.  He was standing beside a man of action who had finally resolved to take his brave plans to the highest levels and instigate them.  Once the Setnin Council heard his ideas they would, as all shortsighted associations did, reject them out of hand.  But with time and backing Ryath knew Rixx’s plans would come to fruition. 

How long that would take he didn’t know.  But Ryath knew one thing, and one thing only.  It had to.

It simply had to.

The Heat

2003 short story by Mark Newbold and Paul Squire

Thirty-seven years after Episode IV – A New Hope

Histories – Preceding the events of Chancai Falls and the final massive push of the Ki-Ki, this story shows the similarities between Ryath Centaur and the new S.D.F leader Tannis Rixx.  Rixx, a man of few words, finds the straight-forward nature of Centaur to be a useful sounding board for his own ideas, and in a meeting repeated many times during the next few months the two men meet to discuss battle plans.

Cast of Characters

Tannis Rixx

Ryath Centaur