The Tatooine Effect

1986/2002/2003 story by Mark Newbold

Three years after Episode IV – A New Hope

It had been one hell of a night.

But then, it’s not every day you cross Jabba the Hutt and get away with it.

Jan Lomona raised his hand to cover his face, the days first light glinting into his tired eyes.  He moved to sit upright, but the throbbing in his head made him pause for a second.  What the freck do they put in the drinks round here that they don’t in Setnin? he wondered to himself.  My brain feels like the morning after a swoopers convention. 

He looked around and saw that he was lying in the shadow of an old landspeeder, itself parked in an alleyway off the main street of Mos Banely, and realisation hit as he remembered the events of the last few days. 

Jan and Goah Galletti, both employees of Setnin Sector ganglord Glann Cipple, had travelled to Tatooine on business of differing natures.  Galletti to meet with one of the Hutts representatives and Lomona to do some business for the hulking gangster.  And while it was known that Galletti didn’t approve of Jan’s activities away from Glann Cipple, Jan nevertheless suggested sharing a ship, and so the Berone Sunrise left Amagad bound for the Outer Rim and whatever awaited them. 

It had been a productive trip.  Seconded in their regular Mos Banely hotel, they flew overland to the palace of Jabba the Hutt, where Galletti was met by an obsequious man who was clearly knowledgeable of Galletti’s reputation and who ushered him into a briefing room, a cave-like area replete with barred windows and the feint smell of rodents, and Jan to Jabba’s main audience chamber.  His Gamorrean escort pointed thuggishly to an empty seat near the rear of the room and Jan sat, nodding to a couple of familiar faces he spotted in the throng and waited his turn to address the Hutt.

It was a long wait, but Jan minded little.  He was always able to glean some useful extract of information from his semi-regular trips to Tatooine, information that was either useable back home, sellable or of use in negotiations.  Most knew of his Tatooine jaunts, and many were either envious of his connections or impressed by his willingness to mix it up with the cream of the galaxies scum.   But Lomona knew that while in Setnin he was a big fish in a small pond, here, where the action had galactic implications, he was a very small fish indeed.

But a fish that Jabba, for reasons even Jan couldn’t fathom, liked to use.

It was four hours, eighteen Twi’lek dances, three Rancor feedings, four shootings and a Hutt snooze later, but finally Jan was called up.  Jabba the Hutt eyed Jan, one lazy eye squinting more than the other, the foul stench of rotting food and heavy alcohol tingeing the air.  Jan sucked it all in, keeping his cool exterior while his insides were screaming for oxygen.

   “Lomona.  It’s been too long.”

   “As ever I can’t disagree.”  Jan returned, bowing slightly in an attempt to appear courteous yet cool.  He chided himself as he straightened up to look at the Hutt.  Why do I do that?  It never comes off. 

   “I have a job for you, one that suits your unique abilities.”

   “And which ability would that be?” asked Jan, immediately realising that it wasn’t a statement that required a flippant response, and he gave Jabba a sorry look.  Jabba breathed deeply through his nose and shifted on his dais. 

   “I need a consignment taking into the Setnin Sector.”

   “What cargo?”  Jabba frowned and made as if to speak, but Jan raised his hands.  “Look, I only ask because you know I don’t smuggle breathers.  Livestock yes, slaves, no.  If it can order a flameout then it’s good enough to sit up front with me.”  He grinned, an expression that made the Hutt wince.  “That’s the way I’ve always operated Jabba, you know that.”

Jabba nodded in agreement. 

   “Trust me Lomona, this cargo couldn’t be more inanimate.”

   “Then we’ve got a deal.”

   “Agreed.”

Jan nodded, satisfied with Jabba’s reply.  Besides, he’d know if it were alive, his ships sensors could easily be fine-tuned to penetrate the crate and read any life signs inside.  Jabba motioned towards one of his many aides who pointed the way to a side room and a more detailed description of the job.  Jan half-smiled at Jabba again.

   “Always a pleasure.”

Jabba didn’t respond, he simply narrowed his eyes and fixed Lomona with a glare.

   “This mission will not go wrong.  Am I right?”

Jan began to move away and looked back over his shoulder as he left the audience chamber.

   “Jabba, you’re always right.”

   “Cipple will be satisfied with this.”

   “I’ve been instructed to iron out any…disagreements that might crop up.”

Goah Galletti fixed the burly negotiator with a steely glare and waited for the mans resolve to falter.  It didn’t, but Goah knew that genuine toughness was about more than a hard stare.  The atmosphere in the room had been frosty from the start, and he still wasn’t sure why Glann had sent him to oversee a business negotiation.  He was the last person he’d have sent if he had any say in the matter.  He had the patience of a demon and the civility of a guillotine.  Signing peace treaties wouldn’t be what he was remembered for.

Being the ultimate cause for the need for peace treaties probably would be.

The burly man stood and moved away from his chair, peering through the barred window.  It was dark outside, dusk was approaching fast and the rays of Tatoo II were diminishing over the horizon.  Soon it would be dark, and the temperature would drop rapidly.  He had a home and a family to go to, and this long negotiation was tiring him.  He turned back to Goah, glancing at the obsequious man who had led Goah in, seated in the corner taking notes.

   “One last issue.  We will soon require free and unfettered passage through the Setnin Sector.  Will that be a problem?”

Goah raised an eyebrow.  You don’t need Glanns permission.  It’s a free galaxy.

   “No problem at all.”

What the freck is in the crate?

Jan paused as he spoke to himself and blew out a long breath.  He knew better than anyone that if Jabba didn’t want the contents of the consignment known, then that was that, but Jans natural curiosity and desire to keep his ship and hide intact always overrode that fact.  The crate was a simple wooden box, crudely hammered shut with a nail gun.  Clearly the contents within were hardy and durable.  No breathers then, at least there’s that.  And this is no spice crate either.  Must be weapons or technical parts or something.  He watched the crate as it was pushed on a repulsors field into the Sunrise.  How dull.

Night had fallen, and the cool air was crisp and clear.  Jan had parked at the rear of the Hutt palace, other vehicles scattered around and about.  He could see a phalanx of familiar vehicles; a Firespray was close by, as well as a handful of other custom jobs.  He noted that the Sunrise was the largest freighter present, although there were a few larger transports that sat at the edge of the compound.   There ain’t too many of these babies here on the Rim.  Desando Dynamics sure made these stock heavies exclusive.

The consignment loaded, Jan waited at the foot of the ramp as Galletti left a rear exit and strode towards him.  Jan began to board the Sunrise and Goah followed, the ramp and airlock sealing shut behind.  He headed to the cockpit, where Jan was waiting with his trusty old droid Aurran.  Two glasses of Vineau sat on the dash, and Jan offered one to Goah.  The gunman shook his head.

   “No thanks.”

Jan cocked his head to one side and looked at the red liquid as it sloshed around the tumbler.

   “We’re not at work anymore.”   He waggled his eyebrows like a used speeder salesman.  “C’mon, I insist.”

Goah raised an eyebrow in return and accepted the drink, taking a sip and placing it on the side.  Jan turned to the console and began the warm-up routines that would soon see them departing Tatooine, bound for the relative safety of the Mid-Rim.  Galletti watched Jan intently as he operated the controls and seated himself in the co-pilots seat.  It was warm and familiar.  He’d spent many hours there, watching the stars as they sped by, doing jobs alongside his friend Lomona.  But now it seemed such a long time ago, almost like another life.  He could hardly imagine himself accompanying Lomona on any jobs.  Smuggling was certainly not in his blood.

Although blood was very much a constant in his life.

The Sunrise powered up her engines and Lomona raised her from the sands of Tatooine, aiming her nose towards the skies and away from the coolness of the night.  She corkscrewed into the night sky at full burn, racing free of the desert worlds gravitic pull until she was a speck in the cosmos, then nothing.  Safe in the openness of deep space, Jan turned to Goah and left the immediate task of plotting an astrogation course to his R2 unit Troopie.  Jan reached for the glass again.

   “So, everything go smoothly?  Amagad business I assume.”

Galletti nodded, guarding his words and facial expressions.  He knew Jan was adept at reading such small signs.  Understanding the stunningly obvious however, that often eluded him.  Jan smiled and took another swig.

   “Well I’ve been given a real doozy of a job.”

Galletti raised his hand to stop Jan from continuing.

   “I shouldn’t hear this.  What you do for Jabba is your business.”  He looked down into the depths of his tumbler.  “When it concerns Glann, then it concerns me.”

   “Then this might just be worth listening to.”  Jan leaned forward conspiratorially in his chair, lowering his voice.  Despite them being alone in the cockpit, Goah leaned forward to listen.  “This information you could get from anyone at the palace, but I’m taking a crate to Setnin for Jabba.  Not sure where yet, I’m due to drop out of hyperspace and receive a coded message in four hours time.  But this is a weird one.  It’s a wooden crate, nailed up tight.  I can’t see what’s inside, but I’ll tell you this, it’s like nothing I’ve transported for Jabba before. You remember what running for the slug is like.”

Goah nodded.  Years previously he had done many such similar jobs for Jabba, before moving away from smuggling towards more…questionable activities for Glann.  While Jan still operated primarily as a free-lance trader, working for many different operators Goah was exclusive to Cipple.  And as such had gained a fearsome reputation in a short space of time.  But he remembered well the details of running for Jabba the Hutt.  And rule number one: never ask what’s inside the box.

   “You think it’s dangerous?”

   “Do Krayts crap in canyons?  Of course it’s dangerous, I’m running for Jabba the Hutt.  But is it dangerous enough to get me killed?  Look, I’m as curious as the next guy about what I smuggle, but this has got the hairs on the back of my neck up.”  He paused, looking closely at Galletti.  “Aren’t you even a bit curious?”

   “It’s not my problem. You’re the captain.”

   “But what if this has got something to do with Glann?  You know Jabba would like him out of the picture in the Mid-Rim.”

   “Him and a thousand others.”

   “Exactly!”

   “Exactly.”

Jan blew out an exasperated breath, not sure what it was Goah was missing.  He lowered his glass and turned to pull the levers that would plunge the Sunrise into hyperspace, and outside the universe swirled into crimson.  A few seconds of checking they were secure and he turned back to the black clad gunman.  Goah simply stared back, giving nothing away and sipped again from his Vineau. 

Jan stood and moved towards the astrogation panel, altering a few switches and toggles.  Goah noticed him working from his detailed starmap, viewed on a small hooded screen in the centre of the panel. That map is worth more than the ship, Galletti thought to himself.  The reason he has such an edge.  Jan spoke. 

   “I’m gonna scan the crate.  I don’t know what’s inside, but I have a feeling it’s not there by choice.”

   “A slave?” asked Goah, knowing Jans distaste for ferrying live cargo.  Jan shook his head.

   “Jabba wouldn’t transport a sentient in a crate like that, not if he wanted it delivered alive.  No, something weird is up, I just don’t know what.  You cool to give me an assist?”

Goah looked around the smart and roomy cockpit and shrugged his shoulders.

   “I’ve got nothing better to do.”

   “The readings are inconclusive Master Jan.” Aurran drawled in his measured monotone, adjusting the monitor and flicking switches and dials.  Jan frowned, unsure of how to proceed.  Maybe Goah was right an hour ago, best not to mess with the damn thing.  But he’d be damned if a wooden box would get the better of him, not after three hours of probing.  He had an hour until the coded message would tell him the destination of the crate, and he had every intention of knowing what the cargo was before then.

Or who.

He still had the feeling that there was someone inside, a feeling he just couldn’t shake.  It was illogical, he knew, but logic rarely paid Jan Lomona a visit.  Galletti stood to one side, impassively watching the proceedings.  Jan gave him the occasional glance, as if to say `Well you think of something,’ but said nothing.

   “Ahh crud, this is hopeless.” said Jan, standing back and shoving his hands on his hips.  “We could spend all day scanning this.”

   “Do what you usually do then.” said Goah, and Jan frowned as he turned to face him.

   “This is Jabba I’m working for, not Glann.  Glann tells me what I’m transporting, and if he doesn’t he knows I’ll find out as a matter of personal and professional pride.  Jabba…he tends to remove hands from wrists when you do that.”

   “But Jabba isn’t here.  So open it.”  Goah shrugged his shoulders as he placed his hands in his pockets and leaned against the wall.  “What are you afraid of? That it’s going to blow up?”  He almost smirked.  “Wouldn’t your sixth sense have alerted you to that?”

Jan ignored the not-so subtle dig and sized up the crate.  It was long, about two and a half meters and a meter deep.  He could sense that there was some kind of power supply running inside, and the contents weren’t very heavy.  In fact, he could almost lift the crate himself.  He frowned again, looking at Aurran and Goah.  Galletti stared back at Jan for two seconds, blew out an exasperated breath and lashed out with a steel-capped boot, hitting the crate perfectly on the edge and cracking the casing open, shards of splintered wood hitting the steel floor of the hold.  Lomona was too surprised to react, especially when he saw the contents of the simple crate.

A carbonite block.

Dammit I was right, it was someone thought Jan to himself as he moved to inspect the body.  Thoughts of who it could be raced through his mind, and recent events of huge importance came to him.  Nah, it couldn’t be…

   “I recognise him,” said Goah, leaning over Jans shoulder and brushing some of the splinters away from the block.  “That’s Galindro.  He’s one of the best hitmen on the Outer Rim.”  He paused, lost in thought for a second.  “What would Jabba be doing putting him in carbonite?”

   “Maybe he opened something he shouldn’t have.” stabbed Jan as he looked closer.  Sure enough it was Galindro, his long snout protruding upwards, a mask of pain etched into his features.  He wore his usual outfit, a tight fitting suit that accentuated his canine physique, and his customary blasters were held high on his hips, his short arms ready to swoop down and fast draw his opponents to oblivion.  Jan had met him once before, on Dantooine doing a clandestine job for Jomobol Pocock, and he certainly didn’t want to face him in anger again.  Galindro belonged to the Outer Rim, and long may he stay there.

   “Galindro has nothing to do with Setnin.  He’s never worked for any ganglords here,” pondered Galletti as Aurran disengaged the anti-grav field and heaved the block onto its end in preparation for thawing it out.  “So why send him here?  Someone in Setnin wants him, but who?”

   “May I suggest a simple way to find out sir?” interjected Aurran as he waited by the control panel that sat on the edge of the block.  Goah nodded in agreement, but Jan shook his head.

   “Look, I know say you know this guy, but I do too.  I don’t want him coming out of a carbonite block, blind and frecked off, running round my ship causing trouble.”

   “I’ve got him covered,” said Goah with a twist in his voice, but Jan still held firm.

   “No, I need more of a reason than that to upset Jabba.  Setnin might be in the Mid-Rim and Jabba might have stumpy arms but his reach goes right the way to Coruscant.  We’ll sit on this until we have more information.”  He checked his chrono.  “Which should be in about an hour.”

   “Well that sure explains a lot,” Jan murmured to himself an hour later, his voice low as he waited to gauge Goahs reaction to the coded message.  He busied himself with closing down the transmission and swung his seat around to face Galletti.  The gunman was calm, relaxed even, which surprised Lomona given the nature of the message, and the strange twist of fate it contained.  Jan gave Goah another few seconds, then spoke.

   “Formoon, eh?”

   “Yes.”

   “Small galaxy.”

   “Too small.”  Goah paused, taking a long look out of the window to the swirls of hyperspace they had since returned to.  Formoon, he intoned to himself.  I always swore I’d get my revenge on you someday.  And now…

   “We’ve got Galindro on ice in the hold, you’re on a job for Glann, I’m carrying crates for Jabba and now Formoon is involved.  What’s the connection?”

Goah gave Jan a blank stare and Jan shuddered inside as the side of Goahs mouth curled into a twisted smile.

   “I’m the connection.”

Jan frowned.

   “Yeah?”  He scratched his head in confusion.  “How do you figure that?”

   “I know Galindro.  I work for Glann, and I’ve worked for Jabba.  I have a history with Formoon.  I’m the connection.”

Jan could see the links clearly enough but was sure that wasn’t the answer he was seeking.  He needed to know why Galindro was being taken to Setnin and to Torona Formoon, the sadistic ganglord who had tortured Galletti three years previously.

And who’d also tortured Jan’s fiancé Frans Latka.

   “Master Jan?” 

Lomona turned to Aurran who was stood in silent expectation at the door of the cockpit, waiting for the word.  Jan half-smiled and nodded.

   “Okay old friend, you win.  Thaw him out.”

Galindro shivered, the effects of hibernation sickness still wracking his body.  Jan handed the gunman another towel as Aurran notched up the heat on the thermal blanket that was wrapped around him.  Galindro drank deep from the hot chav he was holding and looked up at Goah.

   “So run that by me again.” he asked Galletti in a weak but even voice.  “The Hutt was sending me where?”

   “To Formoon.”  Goah narrowed his eyes.  “You have a history with him?”

   “You could say that,” answered Galindro, his canine-like snout easing into a wry smile as another set of shivers shook him hard.  He composed himself.  “We’ve been adversaries for a long time.  Ever since Formoon sent me out alone on a mission that needed back up.  I failed, Jabba was upset and Formoon got the blame.  And in turn he blamed me for making Jabba angry with him.  Let’s just say that we weren’t drinking partners.”  Galindro eyed Goah closely, his bleary eyes still stinging from the carbonite.  “You certainly have a past with him.  I can smell the hate.”  He looked at Jan and Goah.  “So, do you have a plan?”

   “Actually I do,” spoke Lomona, moving towards the opposite side of the hold to where the now empty carbonic block was standing against the wall.  He raised an eyebrow as he looked at the two gunmen. “But you might not like it.”

   “I didn’t much like Formoon holding me over a lava pit on the wrong end of a rusty chain.” answered Galletti dryly.  “Trust me, I can take it.”

Jan nodded and continued.

   “Okay.  All three of us have things to do and places to be, right.”

Galindro took another sip of chav and eyed the block.

   “In a manner of speaking.”

   “I’m taking a crate to Moot, Goahs on his way back to Setnin and you’re…” He motioned to the block.  “You’re chilling out.   And unless I deliver something to Moot I’m the one who’s gonna get it.  So…” Jan paused again as he eyed Goah.  Galletti shook his head in confusion.

   “So?”

   “So I’ve got to deliver something to Formoon.  But whatever that something is, it’ll get inside Formoons base.  Undetected.  And close enough to get some of that revenge you’ve both been after.”  He looked at Galindro.  “Do you see where I’m going with this?”

   “Yeah, and you can forget it.”  He glared at the carbonite block.  “I’m not getting back in there for nothing.  I want Formoons intestines as a necklace as much as the next guy, but I’m not going through that again.  No one’s that desperate to nail him.”

   “I am.” stated Goah flatly.  He turned to Lomona. “I’ll do it.”

Jan didn’t give Goah time or chance to change his mind; he quickly moved back towards the two men and seated himself beside them.

   “Alright, we’ve got to move quickly on this.  We need two things.  A carbon freezing chamber – “

   “And a disguise,” cut in Galindro.  Goah turned to look at him.  The gunman cocked his head.  “Think about it.  Formoon is expecting me.  If he gets a human frozen in carbonite he’ll know something’s wrong.”

    “Exactly,” said Lomona with emphasis.  “What we need is to make you look like Galindro.”

Jan and Galindro watched in momentary confusion as Goah pushed his nose and chin out, forcing his lips into a freakish approximation of a snout, then relax.  He raised an eyebrow and shook his head.

   “Sorry, no good. Just haven’t got the snout for it.”

   “You know I’d totally forgotten what a funny frecker you are Goah.”  Jan looked around his hold and grinned as his eyes lay on an opened metal tin.  Bingo!

   “Aurran you old cogmeister, you’ve done it again.”  He lifted the tin and held it out in front of him for the other two to see.  “Exterior panel filler.  Quick drying, fills any gap.  This tin made the Kessel run in less than twelve parsecs.  If we take a mold of your face,” He nodded towards Galindro.  “Then you can wear that in the freezing chamber.  Formoons men won’t suspect a thing, especially if you wear his clothes.”

Goah seemed agreeable to the idea, sizing the gunman up beside him.

   “Is that stuff toxic?” asked Galindro.  Jan checked the details on the side of the tin.

   “Lethal.”

   “Gotta die of something I suppose.”

Thirty minutes passed as Jan and Goah made their makeshift moulding of Galindro, and with the use of two cable casings they were able to fashion crude but working breathing tubes.  Jan stood back, picking pieces off the edge of the mold and turned to Galletti.

   “Now comes the interesting part,” began Jan as he moved in to grip the edges of the mold.  Galindro made as if to stand, but Jan held him down.

   “What interesting part?” he asked.

   “Taking it off,” answered Jan as he heaved back in a sharp motion, pulling the mask and a sizeable amount of facial hair with it.  Galindro howled loudly and grabbed his head as the stinging loss of hair hit him and Goah couldn’t hide a wry smile as Jan stepped back very quickly.

   “You’ll pay for that.”

   “Hey, don’t take it out on me, blame Formoon.  He put you in this situation.”

Galindro growled something under his breath, despite the fact that it was Jabba who had done this to him and nodded in agreement.  Considering I refused to get back in the block, this job hurts enough already.  Maybe Galletti’s the wise one.

   “We’re changing course and heading for Commodor.  They have a first-class freezing chamber, state of the art.”  Jan motioned towards Goah.  “You won’t know you’ve been frozen until you wake up.”

   “I’m not doing this for my health,” growled Goah as he began to psyche himself up for the ordeal.  “Just get me there as soon as you can.”

Galindro joined the conversation again.

   “Do you know the owner of this chamber?  Is he trustworthy?”

Jan gave the canine gunman a half smile.

   “Pal, there’s no-one I trust.  There’s just people I distrust less than others.”

   “So who is it?” asked Galletti.

   “Romanoe, you old dog!” yelled Jan as he greeted his friend and regular mechanic.  The older man strode across the metallic platform that made for the exterior landing bay of his latest hired base and grinned as he returned the welcome.

   “Jan Lomona, you’re looking well for a no-good, double-crossing, two-timing schemer.  What can I do for you?  More work on the Sunrise?”

Jan shoved a thumb over his shoulder at Galindro and Galletti who stood behind him in silence.  Goah gave Romanoe a silent nod and Galindro gave a blank stare.

   “Not today.  I need to use your freezing chamber.  I’ve got a cargo that needs delivering to Torona Formoon and it’s better if it’s secure.”

Romanoe raised an eyebrow and glanced at Jans two companions.  He lowered his voice as he spoke to the A-desandian, turning him round to face the large metallic hangar that served as his current base of operations.

   “Two gunmen and a smuggler need use of my carbon freezing chamber. For Formoon you say?”

Jan nodded in the affirmative.

   “I know I shouldn’t ask but I’m going to anyway…” He left the sentence hanging, and Lomona grinned widely.

   “Rom, I’d tell you if I could but this is a run for Jabba.  You know how he is with this kind of gig.”

Romanoe blew out a long breath and whistled loudly.

   “Say no more, say no more.”  He motioned towards the open doors of the hangar, which was a bustling hive of activity, packed with mechanics and droids busily repairing and stripping freighters and all manner of vehicles.  On Commodor, a world that was one of the oldest in the Setnin Sector and which was covered in docking bays, hangars and repair facilities, any captain could locate whatever part, spare or ship-related item he or she was searching for.  Jan often used the facilities here on Commodor; the fact that his regular mechanic was based here was an added bonus.

Romanoe led the trio through his main bay and towards the rear of the hangar.  Jan noticed a few furtive glances as various mechanics spotted Goah and Galindro, and acknowledged a few workers himself as he strode confidently alongside Romanoe through a blast door and into a clean, brightly lit area at the back of the building.  Romanoe opened a concealed panel cut into the wall and keyed in a secret code that opened yet another door.  Inside was dark and the mobile mechanic activated a set of lights that illuminated the room.  It was the carbon-freezing chamber, and the glow of red and blue lights bathed the room in neon hues.  Romanoe paused at the door allowing Jan to enter.

   “There’s a rear exit to bring in whatever you need.  The controls are self-explanatory, you won’t have a problem.  If you need any help I’ll be in my office.”

Jan patted Romanoe on the shoulder and entered the room, Goah and Galindro following close behind.

   “Thanks for this Rom.  We’ll be out of your way soon.”

   “Take your time.”

Goah secured the door behind him and moved to the centre of the chamber, his eyes never leaving the pit where he knew he would soon descend.  Galindro walked slowly around the hollow, recent memories of being dragged kicking and snarling, bound at both feet and paws still fresh and vivid in his memory.  Jan made his way directly to the control stand, keying in instructions and details.  This was indeed a modern chamber, which allowed such details as weight, height, species and age to be accessed.  Eyeing Goah he noted all the details, his pure Trefnarian heritage, his height, weight and most importantly his age.  Nothing about Goah that I don’t know, he said confidently to himself.  A trip through a chamber with the wrong settings could really send a guy over the edge...

Galindro let his bag slip from his shoulder and into his hands, and opening it he pulled out the rough but detailed mask that Goah was to wear.  Galletti took it wordlessly from him and held it against his face.  As before it was a good fit, the only difference being the sheen of sweat that had accumulated across Goahs face.  He snapped the elastic around his ears to check it was okay, then removed it along with his top layer of clothing that he began to swap with Galindro.  Jan left the chambers exit, jogging around to the Sunrise, which he entered and ran down to the hold.  He jumped onto the waiting load lifter that bore the carbonite block he intended to re-use, covered with a tarpaulin to hide the contents.  Aurran had jury rigged a remote device, enabling the group to choose the precise moment they wanted Goah to wake and wreak havoc, and Jan checked it before pulling out of the freighters bottom ramp and to the back of the hangar again.

He pulled the block to the side of the chamber and hopped off, yanking the sheet free and with the assistance of Galindro dragged it to the edge of the chamber.  Jan then manned the controls of the claw that was held high up in the ceiling and lowered it, grabbing the block and talking it down into the pit where it waited for Goah.  Lomona breathed deeply though his nostrils and nodded at Goah, who was now fully prepared in Galindro’s clothes, the mask in place.  Beneath the mask covering his eyes was a pair of space-worthy protective goggles, there to shield his eyes from the freezing and blinding effects of the carbonite.  Goah returned the nod to Jan and approximated the pose that Galindro had been frozen in when they had thawed him scant hours before.  Without preamble the floor began to lower and gases billowed as Galletti was engulfed by the potentially deadly carbonite.  Jan and Galindro watched, solemn as a funeral as he was carbon frozen, and seconds later Jan operated the claw that brought the block out of the pit, ebon and steaming, and laid it on the grilled floor.

Galindro eyed the still figure of Galletti with a cool eye and turned to Jan Lomona, who for some reason had a broad grin rippling across his face.

   “What’s so funny?”

Jan pointed at the block of Goah, face covered in the mask of Galindro.

   “Goah Galletti.” He rapped his knuckles against the still cooling block.  “Freeze dried for freshness.”

The Berone Sunrise roared away from Commodor at full burn, their destination of Moot locked into the astrogation computer.  Jan had secured Galletti firmly in the forward lounge area, between the gaming table and the steps down to the galley, and Aurran and Troopie gave the imposing monolith a wide berth.  Galindro had seated himself next to Jan in the co-pilots seat, his keen eyes watching the swirls of hyperspace with interest.  Jan knew that there were a select few who knew the lanes so well they could track their journey through hyperspace with the naked eye.  Indeed, Jan could always recognise the unique swirls and eddies of Setnin whenever he approached it after time away, the gravimetric pressures of neighbouring sectors causing her hyperspace hue to glow neon purples and pinks.  He was by no means the most experienced smuggler on the lanes in the Mid-Rim, but he was one of the most travelled, and was always ready with an open ear to absorb any hints and tips an older, wiser, gamer trader might drop.  But Galindro, he had a fearsome reputation.  Even in the Mid-Rim his fame was noted, and despite almost never leaving the broad circle of the Outer Rim his notoriety was rife.  Lomona had seen Romano’s men follow Galindro’s steps with cautious eyes, and he himself made certain he covered his back.  Jan sighed inwardly, comforted by the security his electri-grid security system gave him and his droids.

Commodor to Moot was a long trip, but using the star maps Jan had at his disposal it was a shorter, less perilous journey than it might have been.   Galindro nodded with approval as Jan cut a sizeable chunk off the time he had initially described, and was caught unprepared as the large stock heavy freighter dropped sleekly out of hyperspace into Moots airspace.  Jan switched the cockpits interior lights off, and the glow of running lights that bathed the Sunrise was diminished.  Dropping into silent running mode the freighter began a swift, unpowered descent into the atmosphere, heat from the atmosphere skimming the shields at a sharp angle.  Buffeted by the upper reaches of the atmosphere and skipping like a stone across a pond, Galindro held on to the edge of his chair as Jan concentrated, aiming for Moots capital continent and the base that lay at its centre, the base of Torona Formoon.

Air traffic control didn’t register the stock heavy freighter until she was well within the lower reaches of the atmosphere, travelling across the ocean at twice the speed of sound.  Jan took the com unit and announced his presence to the authorities, his transponder showing the freighter as a legitimate trading vessel from A-desando.  Cleared for passage, Jan nudged her towards Formoons base.

He landed the Sunrise in a clearing next to a long winding walkway that led up to the flat area that made up Formoons headquarters.  It was edged by tall trees and bushes that formed, from the ground, a natural barrier.  But from the air the base was clearly delineated, a square in the forest surrounded by peaks and troughs, and one that Jan located with ease.  He had been here on a handful of occasions on jobs for various employers but had no reason to explore the surroundings or enjoy Formoons hospitality.  His last time was four years ago, before Goahs and Frans’ unfortunate encounter with the sadistic gangster.

And that’s what he was, a sadist.  He enjoyed pain and misery in equal measure, but only when handing it out.  Lomona smiled to himself as he powered down.  You’ll soon get all the pain and misery you can handle.

Galindro was sitting right back in the cockpit, aware that it was he who was supposed to be frozen in the deadly carbonite block.  Jan silently nodded at him and stood, opening the cockpit door and allowing Galindro to pass through the ship and to the hold.  On the way Jan activated the anti-gravity field on Goahs carbonite block and pushed it ahead of him.  Once inside the windowless hold Jan lifted the lid of the crate, which he had patched up as best he could after Goahs solid kick had cracked and splintered it, and lifted the block inside.  Once secure Aurran stepped forward, nail gun in hand, and hammered the lid shut.

   “Good enough?” asked Jan.

   “I wouldn’t know,” answered Galindro dryly.  “I only saw it from the inside.”

   “Good point.”

Galindro moved back into the main spine of the ship and into the galley area, locking the door shut behind him.  Inside was a secret deck plate Jan used for small illegal cargoes and hiding people in times of need.  Underneath the deck plates of the Sunrise were an intricate run of passages, narrow enough to crawl through that led to various sections of the fifty-meter long ship.  It had been useful in the past.  Jan hoped it would be again.

Jan used his load lifter to heave the crate up and Aurran activated the main lower cargo ramp, allowing Jan to amble down at a slow and unthreatening speed.  Aurran waited like a sentinel at the top of the ramp and watched as Lomona rode the load lifter to the edge of the long walkway and then up the incline.  He watched until Jan was a dot in the distance and then closed the ramp.

It didn’t take long for someone to come running out of Formoons perimeter guard box and approach Jan, blaster in hand, waving wildly.  The man, a gruff Barada, jogged to a halt and frowned.  Jan frowned back.

   “State your name and business.”

   “Lomona, Jan Lomona.”  He jerked a thumb behind his back.  “I have a consignment from Jabba the Hutt.”

The man visibly blanched at the mention of Jabba’s name and hurried to open the com connection back to the main building.  A few mumbled words with his back turned to Jan and he motioned for him to follow.  Moments later the wide gates slid open and Jan was admitted entry.  The Barada pointed towards a hangar that lay separate from the rest of the facility.

   “Take the crate over there.  Someone will be with you shortly.”

Jan nodded and slowly crawled the fifty meters across dampened soil and scrub to the lone hangar that sat in the clear mid-morning sunlight.  It was a crisp morning, the air was sharp and thin and the dew still clung to the trees.  Jan inhaled deeply as he killed the engine and waited.  He shoved his hands into his jacket pockets, the green and beige camouflage jacket matching his surroundings perfectly, the orange trousers less so.  He popped a cockon into his mouth and crunched as he watched activity in the main building, one of the windows on the upper level was opened and a distant face peered out.  Someone motioned towards him and he took that as a sign to hop off the load lifter and make his way to the main building in the compound.

Jan reached the main entrance and raised his left hand above his head, freeing his left hip blaster with his hand, and then reversed the process for his right hip blaster.  He turned to the attractive aide who was waiting for him at the open turbo lift and inclined his head for him to follow.  Jan couldn’t resist a lingering look at the woman, who was clearly one of Formoons higher ranked operatives, and admired her curves as they travelled up the turbo lift into the complex.

Inside it was a hive of activity, much like Cipple’s operation, although Jan noticed a plethora of aliens from outside the sector, some sitting in doorways waiting for meetings, some who appeared to be begging.  Jan remembered that Formoon was also a loan shark, and sucked up his pity for the unfortunates who littered the passageways.  Shouldn’t borrow what you can’t afford to pay back.

They reached the end of the busy corridor and moved right onto another long corridor, but this one was clean and free of bodies.  Jan managed to glance in a few rooms, and saw various sights.  Conferences, interrogations, torture, Lomona saw it all, and he had to quickly remember that when a ganglord leads by example it follows that a sadist like Formoon would pass that on to his underlings.

They reached their destination, a small but brightly lit room that sat alone on the corner of the building.  Jan entered and waited as the woman followed and closed the blast door behind them.  He watched her closely as she moved around the table, picking up a clipboard as she did so, and perched herself on the edge of the wide table.  Jan remained standing, hands shoved in his pockets, an expectant look across his face.

   “Captain…Lomona?” she asked questioningly.  Jan nodded and smiled as he moved towards the empty chair that sat close to the table.

   “That’s right, but you can call me Jan.”

   “I’ll bear that in mind, captain.” She replied, glancing down to check her notes.  “I see here that you’re on…”

   “Whoa, whoa, hold on.”  Jan raised his hands up.  “Before we start the dry stuff, what’s your name?”  He grinned again.  “I know you’re trying to be professional but I have to call you something.”

   “The names Arriandell, but my friends call me Arriane.”  She flickered away from his interested smile for just a second.  “You can call me Ms. Dell.”

   “Ms. Dell?  Married and being mysterious about it, or just playing hard to get?”

   “If I told you I wouldn’t ask you to call me Ms, would I?”

Jan held back a laugh and raised his eyebrows in amusement.

   “Alright Ms. Dell.  What would you like to know?”

She shifted on the table, crossing her legs and revealing a flash of shapely thigh.  Jan cleared his throat and looked back at her face, concentration clear to see.

   “You’ve brought a consignment here from Tatooine.”

   “That’s correct.”

   “From Jabba the Hutt?”

   “The one and only.”

She shifted again, pulling her hair back from her face.  Wow, what beautiful eyes, Jan thought to himself, but refrained from saying his thoughts aloud. 

   “And this consignment.  Do you know what it is?”

Jan smiled inwardly.  Either Ms. Dell was new to the job or she was making a ham-fisted attempt at catching the smuggler out.  Either way, he wasn’t biting.

   “Ms. Dell.  Arriane.  This is a job for Jabba the Hutt, not Ploovoo Two-for-One.  If I knew what was in that case then I wouldn’t be here enjoying your company, I’d be headed for the Red Nebula at full burn.”  He cocked his head.  “No, I don’t know what’s in the consignment.  Why, should I?”

She checked her information and placed the clipboard and light pen on the table, fixing Jan with a solid stare.

   “I don’t know either.  But my intelligence tells me you have a history with Mister Formoon.”  She paused for a second.  “So why would Jabba the Hutt send you to bring this cargo?”

Jan pulled a face of indifference and shrugged.

   “Who knows.  Jabba likes using me for Mid-Rim jobs, I know the quickest way to Moot, my ship is hot and ready for action, I was in the area at the time.”  He fixed her with his own stare.  “My maiden aunt lives in the next system.  Shall I go on?”

She gracefully slid off the table and moved to the other side of the desk where she seated herself, hiding her figure from Jan’s eyes.  Lomona leaned forward in his seat.

   “Ms. Dell…”

   “Arriane, please.”  She gave a slight smile.

   “Arriane.  This is just another drop for me.  Clearly you have no more idea what’s in that crate than I do.”   He pushed himself to his feet and glanced out of the window.  I really shouldn’t be doing this, there’s too much going on.  He checked Arriane out again.  Oh, what the hell.  “So, after I’ve signed the delivery papers, what’s say you and me grab a bite to eat somewhere in town.  Pick you up at say, 13.00?”

Arriane rotated her seat and stepped up, moving back to Jan and standing directly in front of him, a smile curling the edge of her luscious lips.  Boy, thought Jan.  That’s the most inviting thing I’ve seen for days.

   “13.00 would be great.  But…”

   “But?” asked Jan.  Arriane smiled coyly, her eyes warm and wide.

   “But I don’t think my husband would approve.”

Jan nodded and took her hand, squeezing it gently and locking eyes with her.  Hey, nothing ventured, nothing gained.  Dammit…

   “That’s okay Ms. Dell.  I wasn’t asking for his approval.”

   “What took you so long?” asked Galindro, an edge of irritation clear in his voice.  Noon had passed and trickled into afternoon and Jan had been gone four hours.  Despite Ms. Dell being married she was evidently still willing to accommodate casual acquaintances, and Jan had seen more of Moot than he ever thought possible.  He lowered his collar that had partially shielded him from the light rain that had begun to fall and hit the palm-sized ramp activator.  He shook his jacket and moved past the airlock as it cycled shut.

   “I had some…pressing business to attend to.”

   “What kind of business?”

Jan glanced at Aurran who stoically shunted his way past, an air of droid disappointment practically wafting from him.  Jan shook his shoulders.

   “Look, I’ve been chained to a desk for three hours, can we discuss this later?”  He tossed the jacket onto the main couch and rubbed his hands together.  “We need to get some distance between us and Formoons base and then get this party started.”

Galindro nodded in silent agreement and seated himself as Jan walked to the cockpit, stopping off at his cabin to grab a towel with which he rubbed his hair dry.  The Berone Sunrise was in hot stand-by mode as she always was, the twin quadex power cores working in unison to keep her at optimum capability and Troopie and Aurran monitoring every operation.  Jan nudged a couple of switches and gently lifted off, watching the compound below as it dwindled into the soft mist and then the clouds.  Galindro joined him in the cockpit as Jan grabbed his jet-juice and took a chug.

   “Want a blast?” offered Jan, but the gunman shook his head.

   “So they took the crate?”

   “Yep, they’re holding it in a hangar close to the main building.  No-one opened it while I was there, but it shouldn’t be long.”  He turned to face Galindro.  “After all, it’s from Jabba.  Who’d want to keep him waiting?”

Galindro didn’t reply, he simply seated himself in the co-pilots chair and fell silent.  Jan could understand his concerns.  He’d been captured on a handful of occasions himself and it was never a pleasant experience.  More importantly, Jan found it was rarely something he could learn from and that was his main irritation.  He’d quickly learned that life was a lesson, and those who paid attention passed the tests.  Any fool could choose to ignore the class.  They were the ones who paid the price when the hard questions arose.

   “Did you speak to Formoon?”

Lomona shook his head and left the cockpit, standing in the doorway that led to his cabin on the left.

   “No, just one of his aides.  I don’t think he was there.  If he was he must have been in a meeting.  You know what these ganglords are like, always got something more important going on.”

Galindro followed Jan out of the cockpit, leaving the simple job of attaining a higher altitude to Aurran.  He paused and turned to glance at Aurran.

   “Your droid attached the remote device to the carbonite block?”

   “Yep.  They’re handy devices, I use them occasionally when I need to make sure a load has been picked up.  You’d be surprised how many consignments get left in warehouses.  When we’re far enough away I’ll activate the camera and we’ll see where the block has been taken.  Knowing Formoon he’ll have it taken to his main room.  If he thinks it’s you he’ll thaw it out in front of his top brass.”

Galindro frowned at this.

   “And when he does he’ll find that it’s not me but an incapacitated and disorientated Galletti.”  He shook his head.  “Your friend will be dead in seconds.”

   “Give me some credit.  Formoons top men work all over the planet.  He’s got six bases on four different continents.  It’ll take hours to get them together.  Once Goah’s left alone we’ll send the signal and free him.”

   “And if he isn’t left alone?  What then?”

Jan halted in his stride, half turning to Galindro.

   “Then someone’s in for a hell of a surprise.”

Torona Formoon could barely contain his emotions when he took a closer look at the carbonite-smeared visage of Galindro.  The canine gunman had been a thorn in his side for many years, causing problems all around the Outer Rim Territories, but now…

Now he would be no trouble at all.

He gave himself the pleasure of a wicked smile as he walked around the block, admiring its gruesome beauty.  To capture Galindro, Jabba must have used many of his men, and his best men at that.  Galindro was more than capable of tackling more than one opponent at a time, a fact not lost on Formoon given Galindro’s failure to carry out that one simple mission.  But that was in the past.   Jobs came and went but vendettas were forever.  Loyalty however was another thing entirely, and while he had been away from Jabba’s employ for a number of years he still nudged certain deals and information the Hutts way.  And clearly that had been acknowledged by this gift from the gangster, and what a gift it was.

He had immediately gathered his top men from across the globe as soon as the gift was opened, and most of them had arrived.  Now in his office, buried deep within the winding corridors of his base, he moved to face front and addressed his assembled underlings.

   “Quite the prize, isn’t it?” he smiled as he rapped his knuckles against the solid surface.  “Should make a good chav table.”

   “Or a doorstop.” Shouted out one of his men, bringing a smile to all present.  Formoon paused for a moment and gathered himself.

   “Men, this is a sign of our good work.  An indication of what Jabba thinks of our operations here.  Remember, no other Setnin operator has ties to Hutt clans like I do.  Cipple may have his liaisons, Dressel his snitches, but I have the hot line to Jabba himself.”  He pointed to Galindro again.  “This signifies that fact.  You could say it’s set in stone.”

His men burst into an impromptu round of applause at this, which brought a smile of satisfaction to Formoons lips.  Finally, after years of building his assets and his staff he had gathered a team worthy of challenging for the position of top dogs in the underworld.  And with Jabba’s blessing he could extend that challenge throughout the Mid-Rim.  Yes, one day I may even challenge Jabba himself…

   “Later, when all of you are here I shall thaw out my gift.  Galindro has been a problem to me, for many years.  Once he is released from this carbonite block I shall see to it that he is not a problem to anyone ever again.”

Another round of applause, this time punctuated with the steely edge of intent.  Galindro was in a heap of trouble, that was for certain.

And on the side of the carbonite block, a tiny hidden camera watched and waited.

   “It’s been four hours.”

   “Not long enough.  We must bide our time.”

Jan turned to Galindro with a quizzical look on his face.

   “Bide our time?  What are you, a sith lord?  Look, my friend is in there.  We need to free him so he can do his stuff and get out.”

Galindro nodded.

   “I agree.  But he also requires time to gather himself after his release from the block.  If you time this wrong he’ll be vulnerable to attack.”

   “If I may suggest,” said Aurran, moving between the two men as they watched the base of Formoon from an altitude of many kilometres.  “Master Galletti will require time to recuperate, but night time is approaching.”

Jan nodded, a smirk on his face.

   “Planetary rotation old friend.  Happens to the best of planets.  What’s your point?”

   “My point is, sir, we know Formoons men are on their way here.  So perhaps we could intercept them?”

Galindro gave Jan a glance as Lomona raised his eyebrows in thought.

   “Intercept?” asked Jan.

   “Yes sir.”

   “Intercept permanently or just hold them up?” questioned Galindro.  Aurran paused, his circuits perceiving that he was now the focal point of their plans.  His gears shifted as he leaned forward again.

   “A sufficient diversion will inevitably cause a furore at Formoons base.  The carbonite block will be the least of their concerns.  After all, it’s hardly going to open itself, is it?”

Galindro nodded his head in admiration of the droids thinking as Jan smirked with pride.

   “I think he listens to you more than you know,” said the canine gunman.  Jan nodded.

   “Damn right.”  Jan patted the droid on the shoulder.  “He’s indispensable.”

Galindro eased out of his seat and moved towards the cockpit exit, a look of determination on his long features.

   “We need to locate these ships and hold them up.  Aurran, you stand by on the camera.  Wait until Galletti is alone for a sufficient amount of time and then release him.  Lomona, you locate the incoming vessels and make your play.  I’ll be on the ion cannon.”  He quickly left the cockpit, leaving Jan and Aurran to look blankly at each other.

   “I am still the captain of this ship, right?”

Aurrans body language gave the distinct impression of a weary sigh as he chugged his way past Jan into the main corridor of the Sunrise.

   “Yes sir.  You are.”

Jan straightened his back and nodded confidently.

   “Good.  Just beginning to wonder back there.”

Torona Formoon waited patiently in one of his ancillary offices as night descended outside.  It wouldn’t be long before his remaining men arrived at his forest base, the largest of the six bases scattered across Moot, and then the ceremony could begin.  He could almost smell the acrid metallic sting of the carbonite as it thawed out, sense the pained expression of Galindro as his blurry eyes focussed on the figures before him, feel the rush of air as his ears popped and sounds echoed around him.  Galindro’s welcome to Moot would be a short and abrupt one.

Formoon noticed one of the desks monitors flash with information and he pulled the screen towards him.  He read in silence, a cup of warm coffine in hand, and perused the report.  The remaining three vessels he was waiting for had been delayed, for what reason he didn’t know.  Weather reports indicated a clear evening with no discernable reason for delay, and his pilots were more than familiar with the thick and forested terrain they had to navigate to reach his secluded base.  He crossed his eyebrows and made a mental note to keep a close eye on the progress of his men.

Nothing would spoil the pleasure of revenge he had arranged for the night.

Nothing.

   “I believe it’s time sir.” 

Aurran hovered over the activation button, ready to depress it at a moments notice as he kept one photoreceptor trained on the carbonite block and the room it lay in.  Galindro paused on the other end of the line, scanning the skies from the ion cannon bubble.  He wiped his snout and coughed lightly.  He could see the three ships approaching in a tight formation, running lights glowing in the dimming sky, darkness practically descended.  The Sunrise was waiting on full repulsors, all lights extinguished, hanging like a fifty-meter fiend with evil intent.  Jan twitched at the controls and guided his hand to lock on to the lead ship, targeting the engines.  It was time.

   “Ready to play?” asked Lomona.

   “Always.” replied Galindro.  Jan narrowed his eyes and depressed the firing stud as he nodded to Aurran to activate the button that would free Goah.

   “Then let’s do it.”

It was a steady drone that rose in intensity as the carbonite bled away, a steady humming throb that echoed around the long, plush, deserted room but no further. Soundproofing had been installed throughout the base, trapping the sound from emanating further – a useful tool in the implementation of torture, a common occurrence in Formoons bases.

The carbonite cracked away enough for Galletti to fall forward and hit the carpeted floor with a light thud.  He lay there for a few seconds, consciousness returning in stabs of awareness.  First the rushing of air to his ears, then the tangy taint of carbonite to his mouth.  He raised his still quaking hands to his face, pulling the mask away from his skin and underneath to the heavy-duty goggles that lay there.  He prised them off slowly, their straps still heavy with carbonite that stuck to his flesh.  Cautiously he squinted at the light.  No damage, his eyesight was unaffected.  Goah pulled himself to his feet, and as he did so he became vaguely aware of a loud ringing sound in his ears.

It was an alarm.

The first volley hit the lead vessel hard, knocking the nose down towards the forest below and separating the two ships behind.  Jan nudged the Sunrise towards the second and closest ship, still cloaked in darkness, and angled her enough to give Galindro a target with the ion cannon.  The gunman obliged with a point-blank score to the ships midsection that temporarily slowed the ship, internal lights flickering and dimming and fading out.  Jan, still operating on the vastly overpowered repulsors he was so proud of, swung his freighter around towards the third ship, but was unprepared for the solid array of shots that peppered the Sunrises’ hull.  He cursed loudly in A-desandian and backed off.

   “Stang, I can’t believe I didn’t see that coming.  They positioned the weapon ship at the rear.”

   “The Noscage Gambit I believe,” noted Galindro as he depressed the firing stud again and hammered the offending vessel with cold hard ion blasts.  The ship lurched and dropped like a silent stone, her crew yelling in shock as the ship hit the canopy of the forest and disappeared from view.  “I would have thought you’d be familiar with that tactic.”

   “I practically invented it.”  bragged Lomona as he angled the Sunrise for a swing at the second ship they’d hit first that was making a break for it.  “Just got caught with my pants down, that’s all.”

Aurran glanced sideways at his master.

   “Old habits die hard.”  Jan shot a glare at Aurran.  “Sorry Master Jan.  The vessel is attempting to call for assistance.  Should I widen the transmission block?”

Jan frowned.  Too wide a dampening field would draw as much attention as the message