The Last Bastion

2001 short story by Jonathan Hicks

Thirty-seven years after Episode IV – A New Hope

The contractor walked into the bar, looking about the hazy room with narrowed eyes and a nervous expression. He held up a small electronic notepad and coughed to get attention.

   "I've got a thirty thousand credit contract available for the Udjein System in the Ki-Ki Sector," he said in a small voice. Some of the pilots at the back of the room didn't even acknowledge his presence. Others just shook their heads and went back to their conversations or drinks.

   "The fee is negotiable," the man said, raising his voice a little and even managing a small smile. Still there were no responses.

   "Wasting your time, friend," came a deep, accented voice from his left. He looked over at the man who addressed him and took in his appearance. He had obviously only recently docked as he still wore his flight suit and he was unshaven. His long brown hair was shone with lack of care. He took the few steps to get to his table.

   "Why is that?" the man inquired.

   "Udjein is a long way and you've got to go through three different war zones. Now, if you're talking closer to sixty thousand, some of these people might go the long way around."

   "I'm only allowed to go to forty."

The pilot shrugged. "Then you've come to the wrong place. Try the corporate offices."

   "I did. They don't want to send licensed vessels through war zones."

   "Then you've got a problem".

With a resigned expression and a deep sigh the man turned to head for the exit. As he did so, three other well-dressed men entered the bar. Two stood back a little whilst the other man cleared his throat loudly and held up a contract dossier.

   "Sixty-three thousand contract to Cantarr Bi Romou in the Ki-Ki Occupation Zone," he announced in a bold deep voice. The pilot's sat closest to him held their hands up and he approached their tables.

   "That's what you need to do," the pilot said to the man. "Be bold, confident. Make us think that the thirty thousand contract is worth getting our backsides shot off for."

The man nodded. He looked down at the notepad in his sweaty hand and took in a huge breath of the stale air, changing the amount offered and walking from the bar, heading over the walkway and to the next one.

The pilot watched him go. "He'll never find a pilot on this station for that much," he murmured. The woman who sat next to him nodded her agreement as she took a long draught of the lukewarm alcohol on the table and licked her lips.

   "Nobody sane, anyway," she answered and sniffed. The pilot looked at her bedraggled appearance, the lanky, greasy black hair and the pale fine-boned face.

   "We should really get washed up," he said. "I think we smell."

The woman smiled. "I need to get wasted," she laughed and took another drink, pressing the service button on the table to summon a waiter. "Flying wingman for you makes me want to get drunk."

With a shake of his head and a single gulp that emptied his beaker the pilot stood up and slung his kit bag over his shoulder. He arched his huge back and stretched his arms out to relieve the stiffness in his long joints. "Well, I'm going to get a shower and some clean clothes. You still on for tonight?"

   "Sure, Zythlies, seventh orbit, on the dot. Who else is coming?"

   "Carlon and Arver, as long as Arver's back from his Wennicas System contract."

   "Is Carlon bringing Elees?"

   "Yep."

   "Should be fun."

The pilot pointed at the beaker in the woman's hand. "Make sure you're in good condition for a night out, eh? I don't want to be carrying your fat behind back home."

She saluted. "Freck you, captain," she said as if she was answering a superior officer. The pilot smiled and pointed a finger at her. "Later, Mandon," he said.

   "Later, Dak," she answered and pointed back at him.

Dak Arlon stepped out of the bar and took a breath of the reprocessed air. He wasn't a great lover of places such as Euphoria Station, wanting the long-forgotten hard feel of constant earth under his feet and natural oxygen in his lungs. The walkway he now stepped onto stretched either side of him and curled away upwards, following the curvature of the station's shape. He turned right and headed along the steel-grated floor, looking down every now and then to observe what was happening on the deck below him.

The dimly lit open spaces of the station now simulated evening conditions and the lack of light relieved his eyes. He had spent the better part of eight days in the cockpit of his fighter, plumbed into the uncomfortable sanitation seat as he was on a mission of constant combat readiness, and he'd had to suffer bright data screens flashing continuously in his face. He was pleased he had arrived on Euphoria during evening hours.

He passed other beings traversing the walkway but they hardly gave him a second glance. He was obviously a recently docked pilot out for a quick refreshing drink and they were common on the station. He passed others dressed as he was either about to ship out or just docked, and others more casually dressed for an evening out and returned the odd nod of acknowledgement.

He took the escalator down off the recreation deck and approached the first ten-cred hostel he saw. The bed and meal rooms were common on the station and all he could think of was getting into a hot shower and fresh clothes.

The clerk behind the desk in the reception hall looked up from his broadcast vid.    "Hey, Dak, good trip?"

   "Not the best. My room free?"

   "Nope. Here."

Dak took the proffered keys. "Who the freck took my room?" he said a little more harshly than he intended. He was tired and he squirmed in his ill-fitting flight suit. The irritation was lost on the clerk.

   "Siggiam took it, got back in from Priggy yesterday," he said and handed Dak the check in datapad.

   "Damn it, that's the best room in the place." Dak signed the pad in his usual scrawl and handed it back.

   "Well, I wasn't gonna say no. He lost his ship in the Alorea System a week ago, got dropped off by a long-range salvage crew."

Dak's face changed from an expression of mild anger to one of sympathy. "You're kidding. Poor bastard. Here's your ten creds." He placed two octagonal coins on the desk and the clerk swept them into an open draw.

As Dak headed down the long corridor the door to his usual room slid open and a haggard looking being with a shock of silver from his temples exited. Dak pulled up short and locked eyes with the creature, a huge bovine-featured Chortese.

   "Hey, Siggiam, just heard about your ship," Dak said, trying not to sound too patronising. The alien looked at the ragged looking pilot and shrugged.

   "Hey, it happens."

   "What did happen?"

   "Frecking triple-engine Ki-Ki Shrieker, that's what. Sat behind a derelict waiting for the salvage crew I was escorting to start chipping away at the hull. Bastard frecking things."

There was a pause as Dak took in the information. He knew how much damage a Shrieker could do. Then something dawned on him. "What the hell was a Shrieker doing in the Alorea System? That's where you were, right?"

   "The Ki-Ki forces made a huge push and took the Alorea outer worlds. My contractor kind of never mentioned it."

   "Make a claim against them."

   "Too frecking right I will!"

   "Make sure they know they frecked up. Hey, Arver might be back from a Wennicas System contract today, ask him about their ship movements."

Siggiam nodded with decision. "Yeah, I will at that."

   "We're all out on the pop tonight, Zythlies, seventh. Come along, I'll score for you if you're strapped."

   "No, it's alright, the contractor still honoured the payment. I'll trot along later. You there all night?"

   "Probably, but if we're not then we'll no doubt end up in the Red Star."

   "Later, then." Siggiam pointed his finger at Dak and headed to the exit. As he stepped through the door he turned.

   "Cheers, Dak!" he shouted and joined the crowds passing the dorm.

   "No problem!" Dak shouted back as he pressed his room key against the door scanner. Then to himself he muttered, "You've already took my frecking room."

The doorway slid open to reveal a small room and Dak sighed resignedly. One bed, one vid, one shower and one toilet, all neatly packaged in a five-by-five metre box. He cast the kit bag onto the bed and walked over to the small window at the far end of the room.

His eyes narrowed against the suddenly brighter light of the docking beacons that lit up his room at regular intervals, flashing red and blue to guide incoming ships. He shook his head, knowing that his usual room didn't have windows and the constantly flashing lights wouldn't bother him, that the wider space and cool air circulation would relax and calm him.

He pushed the thought from his head and looked out over Euphoria and the single planet in the system he was now in. The blue-green world was bathed in darkness as the station had passed into its shadow, with flickering lights of vessels departing or approaching her surface.

The huge Euphoria Station was laid out for him to view as the window of his small room was situated on one of the tallest towers. Great docking tubes protruded into space, hangar doors opened and closed constantly along its curve and the main docking block, jammed into the centre of the station like a displaced skyscraper, swarmed with activity in its thousands of windows that Dak could see.

Ships of various designs moved around the station. Shuttles, fighters, gunboats, freighters, and transports and, most glorious of all, the Nebulon-S battleship that sat on constant guard between the station and the planet. It's thin axe-like head swept back to the huge block of engines. It sat silent, lights on but not blinking, like a patient gunmetal grey predator.

Dak smiled and took in the sight of the battleship. Although he loved the huge warships dearly, he didn't miss serving in an official navy.

   "I cut in like this," Siggiam showed his manoeuvre with the circular flat end of a drink stirrer, "and tried to get under the hull of the wreck before he could get a clean shot. Next thing I know, bang," he slapped the table hard, "I'm getting frecked up by a repeater blaster cannon. Ejected, drifted for an hour or two, got picked up by a salvage team working the area."

Dak nodded understandingly but couldn't help but wish that Siggiam hadn't consumed so much alcohol. He was already disorientated and upset over the loss of his ship and the six beers and chasers he had just sank in the last hour and a half couldn't be helping. He looked about the huge circular room to see if he could get the attention of a waiter without reaching across the table to press the summoning button. If he did that he'd get Siggiam's attention and he'd have to listen to him talk about his ship. As it was, someone else made that mistake.

   "What did you fly?" asked Elees with an expressionless face. She was sat back in her seat, her blonde hair tied up into a bun on the top of her head with strands falling over her face. She was the only non-pilot at the table and, as far as Dak could tell, she knew very little about contract combat pilots. He knew from experience that you never, ever, asked a combat pilot about his ship.

But it was too late. Dak and Mandon both looked at each other and smiled knowingly as Siggiam took in a deep breath to start his description. Carlon noticed their exchanged glance of mirth and smiled also, placing his long thin arm about Elees's shoulders and wiping his hand over his shaven head.

   "It was a Slingshot Seven-Twenty, full defence package, you know, Hotflare countermeasures and Spinner decoys. Three twenty mill pulse cannons, two fire-and-forgets, one Seeker proton launcher, Top-Charge electromagnetic shield, quad Vodiplex ion engines, the works." He took a breath. "I'd increased the booster output by thirteen percent..."

   "I thought that Vodiplex had software and throttle inhibitors to stop increased output modifications," Elees cut in quickly.

Dak raised his eyebrows in surprise. Elees not in the know about contract pilots? Obviously he had been mistaken about that. It was no wonder that Carlon had got to like her a lot.

   "Yeah, that's right," Siggiam mused, visibly trying to think hard through his alcohol-induced lack of thought, "but if you take the throttle connectors..."

   "Your round, Siggy," Mandon cut in quickly, after draining her half-filled beaker and waving the empty container in his face. "Waiters are a bit busy, I reckon."

Siggiam appeared shocked for a moment then conceded. "Yeah, right, of course, yeah. Who wants one?"

Mandon lifted her glass and suppressed a belch, Carlon nodded as did Elees but Dak declined. Siggiam got to his feet, still quite co-ordinated after his drink excess, and headed to the busy bar.

There was a few seconds of silence as Mandon watched him go. Then she turned to Elees. "Freck me, I thought we'd heard the last of it then you had to throw in the 'what did you fly' question."

Elees smiled and answered, "Well, he obviously wants to get it off his chest. I think we should take him to the Red Star."

   "Yeah, and lose the idiot in the crowd," Carlon said with a laugh. Elees nudged him in the ribs. "How did your job go, Dak?"

   "Our job," Elees said with a hard stare at Carlon. "And it went very well, thank you."

   "Nothing happened, really," Dak shrugged. "Just ran shotgun for a supply convoy. Once the hunter packs saw the ships were covered they didn't even engage."

   "Probably knew who you were," Elees laughed.

   "Yeah, and frecked off before we flew into them like the idiot pilots we are," Mandon said into her beaker as she lifted it to her lips. She realised it was still empty and put it down. "I don't think that steak agreed with me," she said, holding in another belch.

   "It wasn't steak, it was concentrate," Dak frowned and pointed at her empty plate.

   "All tastes the same, anyway," Elees added. Mandon agreed with a hearty belch, after which we feigned embarrassment and held her hand to her mouth, casting her eyes around the other tables.

   "Wonder what happened to Arver," Dak added to the conversation. He looked enquiringly at Elees.

Elees shrugged. "Hey, I signed off traffic control four hours ago. I can call in, if you want."

   "No, don't, it doesn't matter. I'm sure he's okay."

The light in Zythlies dimmed and music started to pipe through the speakers secreted in the ceiling. It was a low, melodious piece and Mandon laid back and closed her eyes. "I'm stuffed."

   "Did you like my pudding?" Carlon asked with a raised eyebrow.

   "Not as nice as my choc sponge," Mandon shrugged her dismissal. "Nice, though."

   "So where are we going after this, then?" Elees wanted to know. She looked over at the bar to see how Siggiam was doing with the next round of drinks and saw that he was in conversation with a redheaded woman she didn't recognise.

Dak took a gulp of his drink and when he looked about the table all eyes were on him. "What?"

   "Where're we going after this?" Carlon echoed Elees's question.

   "The Red Star, I guess," Dak said. "Unless you want to dive into the Parlour first and say hi to the guys from the battleship."

   "Settled," Mandon nodded.

   "Result," Carlon sipped his drink.

   "I'm up for that," Elees added.

Dak shook his head. "If it's not good there then don't blame me. You wanted a decision on where to go."

Siggiam appeared back at the table and Mandon noticed that he was lacking a tray of drinks. "Siggiam?" she motioned with a flourish at his empty hands.

  "Sorry, Mandon, I couldn't get to the bar. Look, I've been asked to go to the Burner, is that okay with you guys? Wanna come?"

With an emphatic shake of his head Dak declined. "Oh, no, that beep music does my brain in."

   "Yeah, that's a frecked up place, Siggiam, I'm with Dak," Mandon put in. Carlon and Elees looked at each other and then over at Dak. "We'll stick with these guys, thanks, Siggiam."

Holding his hands up in defeat Siggiam backed away from the table. "No problem. Hey," he placed some pentagonal coins onto the table. "That's for my round. See ya." With that he joined the redhead and another man and left the bar.

   "I thought the cheeky frecker was going to get out of a round, then," Mandon commented and scooped the pentagonal coins into her hand.

The Red Star was loud and vibrant, with bright lights swinging from the ceiling and beams of illumination painting three-dimensional pictures on the walls. The club was two-tier, with an outer upper ring where the tables and bar were situated and a lower ring where the dance floor and standing space was located.

Barry leaned across the bar and shouted his order for the second time whilst Mandon waited for Carlon and Elees to stop conversing so that she could ask them what they wanted to drink. Elees was close to Carlon's ear and she said something that made him frown and then shrug. He shouted something back which Elees nodded to, all the while unaware of Elees's wild gesticulations. They became aware of her question after she kicked Carlon in the back of his leg and then mimed her question with a bobbing cupped hand under her mouth.

Dak had the barman's attention but he didn't have an order. He shouted to the barman to get his and Mandon's drinks whilst he waited for an answer.

Carlon shouted at him.

   "What?" Dak shouted back.

Carlon leaned in closer. "A shot of firewalk and a straight duarga!" Carlon repeated. Dak nodded and turned back to the barman.

It was obvious Elees wanted to dance as she was bobbing her shoulders and shaking her fists at chest height in rhythm to the music. When she noticed that Carlon was watching her she grabbed his hand and started to drag him to the steps that led down to the dance floor. Mandon watched them go and shook her head, pointing towards the entrance of the club where she had seen an empty table. Carlon nodded and then allowed himself to be pulled through the crowd.

When Dak had finally been served he had to fight his way through the crowd to get to the table that Mandon had earmarked. She scooted ahead to get to the table before anyone else could.

They took their seats and removed the drinks from the tray. "Not enough seats," Mandon said loudly, audible now they were away from the noisier part of the club. Dak pointed to the next table where only a pair of revellers were sat. "Grab one of those," he instructed. Mandon stepped over, asked if the seat was taken and dragged it over when the two other people shook their heads.

She held up her beaker for a toast. "Completion," she said.

Dak nodded. "Completion, of a contract worth freck all, in the end."

   "It's thirty thousand chips, isn't it? Easy money. What, did you want to get in a fight?"

   "No, but you know, we were out there eight days."

   "Yeah, I know," Mandon squirmed in her seat. "I've got suit rashes and stains." Dak laughed as Mandon looked over his shoulder, movement at the entrance had caught her eye and her eyes lit up. "Arver! Over here!"

A man with a mop of black curls and a small beard was at the entrance. He appeared well dressed but flustered and he bounded over to the table. Dak turned with drink in hand and he smiled widely, the smile hanging on his face as Arver went past him and gave Mandon a friendly hug.

   "How do," he said with a small laugh and then turned to Dak. He gripped his proffered hand and then held it in the other one too. "Hi, alright," he smiled again.

   "Grab a seat, Carlon and Elees are here too. Where the freck have you been?" Dak pointed over to the next table where the other two patrons and another spare seat still remained. Arver stepped over, asked if anyone was using the spare seat and pulled it over when he was told no.

   "Out on that Wennicas contract. Scouting."

   "Scouting where?" Dak inquired. Arver shook his head and tapped the side of his nose. "Client confidentiality."

   "Where were you flying to pass the time?" Mandon asked, skirting the bluntness of the original question but expecting the same result.

   "I was blasting about the front lines of the Ki-Ki invasion force," Arver said in a low voice, as low as he cold get over the blaring music and yet still be heard. "I'd taken a contract extension."

   "Really?" Dak asked with a confused expression. "The front line is the next system to this one. There's nothing there for them to invade."

Arver shrugged his response. Mandon leaned in closer. "If you took a contract extension what are you doing back here?" she asked.

   "Contract got cancelled by the Setnin Council," Arver shrugged again. "It was like 'thank you, changed our minds, here's your cash, now freck off'. Couldn't get me out of the system fast enough."

   "Siggiam got his ship shot out from under him by a Ki-Ki Shrieker," Dak said. "I said you'd have a chat with him about their ship movements."

   "Nasty. Is he okay?"

   "Just upset, I guess, unprovoked attack. He was in the Alorea System."

   "That's the next one on from the system I was patrolling. It was where I got paid." Arver shook his head. "When did he get hit?"

   "Recently. About a week."

   "Well, the Alorea System is in Ki-Ki hands, now. When I was there yesterday they'd dug in and declared victory."

Dak nodded. Now that the Ki-Ki forces had the Alorea system they could jump to whatever system they desired in the local vicinity.

   "We were going to mention it to the battleship crew in the Parlour but there was hardly anyone there," Mandon threw in. "I didn't think they were scheduled for manoeuvres."

   "Battleship?" Arver prompted. He took a quick sip of Dak's drink and licked his lips.

   "You couldn't have missed it," Dak said with a shake of his head, pulling his beaker back towards him. "The warship, that big frecking Nebulon-S. It's just sitting off the station."

   "There's no warship there," Arver said with a twist of his mouth and a shrug of his shoulders. "I had to do three laps of the station waiting for a berth, I didn't see any warship."

   "No frecking way," Mandon insisted. "It's on permanent station, the first officer told me. Euphoria is a freeport, the warship has to be stationed here."

Arver stood up and cast his eyes over to the bar. "Well, I'm telling you, it's not there now. I'm going to get a drink, you guys want anything?" He pointed to each of them in turn but they both declined. Dak watched Arver go and acknowledged a hello from a passing well-dressed man and then turned back to Mandon.

   "That's crap, that is," he said.

   "What, what Arver said or the fact that the warship has flown off?"

   "The warship. There's supposed to be an announcement, or something..." his words trailed away as Carlon and Elees approached the table with drinks in their hands. Mandon pointed at the two drinks waiting for them and expressed shock with wide eyes and an open mouth.

Carlon shrugged. "Sorry, someone else got the drinks in. I've just seen a mate and he's pretty spooked."

   "Why's that?" Dak took a drink.

   "His girlfriend is a Euphoria traffic comms officer and she just got called. She's gone running back to the station operation centre. He's flapping wondering what to do and is even talking about getting his fighter fired up and getting off the station. She's obviously told him something, but he's not talking because if her bosses know she did she'd get fired."

   "But he doesn't want to leave her behind," Elees added.

   "We just heard that the warship has frecked off pretty sharpish, as well," Dak said. He chewed his lip thoughtfully. "This doesn't sound good."

   "Why not?" Carlon looked a little concerned and he curled his fingers about Elees's under the table.

   "Unannounced fast departure for a warship means trouble."

They all looked at Dak, each person knowing that he was ex-service, and fell silent.

   "I'm going to call the head of ops, find out if we should be worried," Dak said and started to stand.

The floor shuddered, causing him to waver and grab the back of Carlon's seat for support. The still-full beakers on the table shifted and slopped their contents over the metallic surface. The dancers on the floor all seemed to suddenly lose their footing and then stood perfectly still, wondering if their actions had caused the floor to grow weak and waiting for another shock. There was a smash as a beaker hit the floor and a few people cheered. The music wavered and then shut off.

   "Orbit shift?" Mandon asked hopefully.

   "There was no warning klaxon," Dak said.

Another, smaller shock rumbled under their feet. Dak heard a low bass thump far off in the distance.

He looked at Mandon, who was looking through a huge viewport to their left and as he looked his face dropped.

   "Oh, freck."

There were Ki-Ki warships heading in their direction, weapons blazing.

Lots of them.

Setnin Defence Force Communication post to Central... receiving... Euphoria Station has been overrun by Ki-Ki forces... repeat... Euphoria Station is now under Ki-Ki occupation... Warship Moz'a'ti recalled as instructed to minimise fleet loss... Euphoria Station intact but seriously damaged... available contract combat pilots either dead or incarcerated... awaiting instructions...

Ocern Gabe dropped the datapad on his desk and turned to stare with moist eyes out the huge window that gave him his view over Benesk, the moon of Zelon.

Trace sat uncomfortably and picked up the pad. She re-read the message to be sure that all the details were covered.

But there were very few details. There always was after a Ki-Ki attack.

   "They're speeding up their invasion," she whispered.  "Euphoria was the last bastion," she added in thought.

   "I know," Ocern said gravely. "All that stands between Zelon and the Ki-Ki invasion force now... is the fleet."

   "What's left of it," Trace mumbled.

The Last Bastion

2001 short story by Jonathan Hicks

Thirty-seven years after Episode IV – A New Hope

Histories – The taking of the Euphoria Station and one of the last lines to be crossed before the inevitable Ki-Ki victory. This Jonathan Hicks tale shows many of the various background characters connected with Euphoria, and others shown in stories like A Lesson in Responsibility.

Cast of Characters

Mandon

Carlon

Arver

Elees

Dak Arlon

Beebee Siggiam

Ocern Gabe

Trace Dallagra