The Wedding Present

2000 short story by Andrew Dick

Four years after Episode IV – A New Hope

As the speeder drew to a halt outside the warehouse, the senior detective fumbled in his pocket for a pipe and his foul-smelling tobacco. His younger partner, seeing what was happening, made a disapproving noise.

   “Sir, do you have to?” he protested. “In here?”

   “It won’t light outside, boy.” replied the older man.

The younger of the two glowered. He was a Sergeant, nearly forty, and the Inspector was still calling him ‘boy’. Finally the pipe disappeared in a cloud of grey smoke, and the older man climbed out of the speeder. The junior man had to hurry to catch up as the Inspector strode to the warehouse.

The Sergeant surveyed the cracked walls of the warehouse gloomily. “Not where I’d like to spend my last hours.” he muttered to himself, and ducked in the doorway after the Inspector. Inside, he caught up just as an Imperial Lieutenant was asking for their credentials.

   “Inspector Frankis, Vessen State Police.” replied the older man, flashing his ID. “Sergeant Tharo.” he nodded at his partner. “And you are?”

   “Lieutenant Ebson.” replied the Imperial. “Try not to get in our way.” he said, and went back to haranguing one of the Imperial medical team trying to ascertain cause of death. In all cases, the cause of death was the same. Blaster wounds. Lots of them.

Frankis and Tharo went through every room in the warehouse, but all of the bodies were in one central corridor. Agreeing that there was nothing more to be gained from staying here, Frankis asked Ebson to forward copies of all holographic images and forensic reports made by the Imperial team.

   “Why?” demanded the Imperial impatiently.   

Frankis smiled. “I don’t want to bring my own forensic team down here, Lieutenant.” the detective’s blue eyes sparkled mockingly. “They’d only get in your way.”

On the way back to the station – Frankis having mercifully extinguished his pipe – Tharo broke the silence first.

   “Well, sir?” he turned his head to glance at the older man. “What’s your read on that little lot?”

   “Fourteen Stormtroopers ambushed and killed in a warehouse after a false tip-off from the killers.” replied Frankis. “Stupid way to go, but not exactly a massacre of innocents.”

Tharo smiled despite himself. The Inspector held the Imperials in an advanced degree of contempt, made worse when he was forced to work with them. While not actively opposing them, he wasn’t the most co-operative man with the Imperial cause on Vessen.

   “Brotherhood’s handiwork, of course.” opined Frankis. “Only they could be so well-organised and brutal.”

   “The Brotherhood.” repeated Tharo. An unwelcome shudder ran down the Sergeant’s back.

   “What ‘Brotherhood’?” demanded Aries Teqe.

   “The Brotherhood of the Silver Circle.” replied Goah Galletti. “As I’m sure you knew already.”

   “Ah, yes.” said Teqe. “I know all about them.”

   “And do the others know?” Galletti jerked his thumb at their two companions at the other end of the room. “Or did you forget to tell them too?”

   “I’ve told them what they need to know.” replied Teqe defensively.

   “In other words nothing.” said Galletti angrily. He turned to face the other two. “I did some checking. The Brotherhood of the Silver Circle is a religious sect. Fanatically opposed to the Imperial presence here, and extremely violent. Even the Imps are running scared of them, and now Aries here is proposing we steal one of their holy artefacts. I hope you two can run fast, because we’re gonna have to.”

   “When we hired you, I was told you could deal with a little bit of danger.” snapped Teqe. “Now it seems I was misled.”

   “I can handle danger, but only if I’m alive. This is suicide.” said Galletti with finality.

The two continued to glare at each other, but nothing more was said.  Teqe feigned boredom and left the room leaving the other three behind.

   “Galletti, we know this is going to be dangerous.” said the young man. “But it’s for Old Man Bura’s wedding. Aries doesn’t want just any old gift.”

   “I think he knows that, Ujo.” said the young woman. “I’ve got to go over details of the security with Aries. You coming?”

   “Sure.” replied the young man, and followed her to the door.

Galletti smiled to himself. Poor bastard, he thought. Ujo Cresen was obviously besotted with Ezda Guinez, and yet he wouldn’t admit it. Guinez knew it though, and played on it frequently. Galletti knew the young man would probably get hurt, and yet he still found it amusing.

What wasn’t amusing though, was Aries Teqe. After quitting the Rebellion, Galletti had gone to work for the smuggler boss Bura Teqe on Abregado-rae, only to find that Old Man Bura had retired and his eldest son Paael was running the business. After a couple of good runs – smuggling first untaxed alcohol and then illegal microcircuitry past Imperial blockades – Paael had asked Galletti to baby-sit his 19-year-old brother on a mission to steal a religious artefact for Bura’s forthcoming nuptials. Galletti had agreed, before knowing the violence the artefact’s keepers were capable of. And now he found himself in a rented house on the capital city of the planet Vessen, wondering how they were going to get away in one piece once the Brotherhood realised what was going on.

Retrieving a slender plasteel attaché case from under the sofa, Galletti removed the two powerful blasters contained within, and began the process of stitching them into the lining of a long nerf-hide coat.

Ezda Guinez felt like her lungs were on fire as she pursued Goah Galletti down the narrow alley. The theft had been discovered all too soon and now they were quite literally running for their life. As she ran, she glanced over her shoulder and saw Aries Teqe behind her. Tears streamed down her face.

It had all started so well. The locks on the temple’s side door had yielded easily to her skeleton keys, and then the coded alarm on the display case had taken only ten minutes to disable, such was her skill. It was sheer bad luck that as she lifted the engraved glass done covering the statuette, one of the temple attendants had walked into the chamber and discovered them.

As the verger rushed to raise the alarm, Galletti had reacted with bewildering speed. The thin fabric panel concealing the blaster had been torn away, and the gun had been raised and the attendant shot, all in the blink of an eye. Whether there had been another witness or a hidden alarm triggered they would never know, but within seconds the building began to fill with blue-armoured troops. Ujo had been standing guard but had not even fired once before one of the blue guards shot him in the throat.

Hearing the shot and Guinez’ cry of anguish, Galletti turned and grabbed the girl by the collar, dragging her towards the outer door as he fired at the guards. Aries, stopping only to grab the statuette, followed them out.

Now, as the guards closed on them, Galletti stopped and let Guinez and Aries past him before firing back down the alley. The leading trooper threw himself to the ground and returned fire, Galletti feeling a sting in his cheek as the shots gouged masonry from the wall beside him. Galletti fired once more, and turned and ran after the other two.

   “Aries.” he shouted hoarsely. “Have you got that code key?”

   “Here.” the young smuggler slapped his breast pocket. “Only another block or so.”

As they emerged from the alleyway, they ran across a busy main street, a speeder narrowly missing Guinez before she led them down another alley.

Galletti risked another glance over his shoulder and saw the leading guard emerge from the first alley, only to be sent flying through the air by a braking hoverbus. The vehicle came to a halt in the street between the two alleys.

   “A bus just bought us some time.” rasped Galletti. “Keep going.”

Aries settled into the pilot’s chair of the Muurian transport. Before he could start any pre-flight checks, Galletti reached over his shoulder and fired up the manoeuvring thrusters.

   “Just go.” shouted the older smuggler, before turning to close the door behind them. When he looked up, Guinez was sitting in a corner, a dazed look on her face.

Looks like she did care about Cresen after all.

   “Ezda, you have to get strapped in.” he said, shaking her shoulder. “This is going to be rough.”

She nodded and fastened herself into a takeoff chair bolted to the bulkhead. Galletti clambered into the co-pilot’s seat as Aries raised the nose of the transport and they rose into the sky above Vessen City.

Galletti looked out of the corner of the main viewport. He could see the commotion around the hoverbus just a couple of streets away, shrinking into the distance as Teqe increased the power to the ship’s main engines.

Aries Teqe cursed several times before he manager to form a whole sentence.

   “Galletti!” shouted the young smuggler. “They’ve got a tractor beam!”

Galletti’s heart sank. The Silver Circle guards had caught up with them frighteningly quickly – they’d barely cleared Vessen’s atmosphere before the Brotherhood started firing – and now they were being reeled in like game-fish on a line. What he couldn’t figure out was why such a small ship, a mere blockade-runner, was carrying a tractor beam.

Not that the reasons made any difference to their situation. The transport’s weaponry couldn’t do the corvette any serious damage, and it would only be a matter of time before they were boarded by the Brotherhood troops. Galletti frantically tried to come up with a solution. Wait until they came aboard and fight them? Set the transport to self-destruct and launch the escape pod? Fire the pod as a decoy? A dark voice from within him suggested handing the statuette back and giving them Aries Teqe as a scapegoat, but he pushed the thought aside.

There was a short cry from the rear of the ship, and Ezda Guinez came rushing forward past Galletti, before he grabbed her arm and spun her round.

   “What?” he demanded.

   “Fire!” she exclaimed, wild-eyed. “Need an extinguisher!”

   “There.” he pointed at a canister full of foam. “There’s another one in the cockpit.” he pushed his way forward and lifted the second extinguisher from its bracket above Aries’ chair. The pilot eyed the canister with barely concealed despair.

Smoke was already drifting through the ship as Galletti followed Guinez to the rear. A section of wiring leading to the port-manoeuvring thruster was ablaze, as was part of the soundproof padding surrounding the hyperdrive motivator casings. The fires were small but difficult to put out because of their location. With the blazes dying down at last, Galletti shouted forward to Aries.

   “How long until they get a lock and try to break in?” he yelled, coughing.

   “We’ve got more problems than that.” Teqe sounded close to panic.

Galletti and Guinez rushed back to the cockpit just as the comm came to life.

   “Unidentified craft, this is Rho-1.” came the tinny voice of the TIE-Fighter pilot. “Cease firing and identify yourselves.”

   “Buy us some time.” Galletti murmured into Teqe’s ear. “I’ll get the escape pod ready.” Teqe nodded, and swallowed.

   “Rho-1, this is Muurian transport Rakuin.” said the smuggler’s son. “We have been attacked, please assist.”

   “Transport Rakuin, power down your weapons but you may keep your engines and shields up.” replied the Imperial. “Corvette, cease fire and identify yourself.”

There was no reply from the corvette. Instead, the ship changed it’s line of fire from the Rakuin to the Imperial ships. One TIE-Fighter was destroyed instantly by a concussion missile, a second slowly disintegrated by laser fire. The third turned and ran.

   “Rho-3 to Control, two ships down. The Rebels have extensive firepower-“ the transmission was cut off, presumably as some bright spark at Control changed the channel to a secure one.

   “Where’s that TIE-Fighter going?” asked Guinez. The fighter wasn’t heading planetside, but instead further out into the void.

Aries changed the sweep of the scanners from aft to forward, and his stomach lurched. The new trace in front was clearly identifiable as a Victory-Class Star Destroyer.

Galletti’s sense of despair was absolute. He had just woken up on a hangar floor aboard an Imperial Star Destroyer, and the painful memories this brought back of his wife Tref’s death were gnawing at his heart.

After losing two TIE-Fighters, the Imperials had become heavy-handed and captured or killed everything in sight. The Rakuin had been disabled and overrun and the crew stunned before they could put up a fight or escape. Galletti was still feeling the effects of the stun blast. He couldn’t move at all, but he could see and hear.

To his relief, Aries and Ezda were both alive and seemingly unharmed, sitting on the floor nearby. The Brotherhood hadn’t been so fortunate. From the number of corpses unloaded by Imperial crews from the captured corvette, it looked like most of them had been killed. Only around twenty or so were left alive, and many of these had been badly beaten.

   “The Commander’s here.” announced a voice, and the clamour in the room died down.

With a great effort, Galletti moved his head round to see the newcomer. The Imperial Commander was a tall man, surprisingly young, and yet with a substantial amount of grey in his dark hair. The officer stopped and scanned the scene around him.

He was, surmised Galletti, unmistakably in charge here. The Commander’s presence stirred memories of the loathsome Terrov, but these subsided. The reaction this Commander brought from his men was more respect than fear.

   “Who’s in charge of this lot?” asked the Commander.

   “This one, sir.” answered a Stormtrooper, hauling one of the Brotherhood to his feet.

   “Who are you?” demanded the bloodied guard.

   “I am Commander Arolsen of the Imperial Fleet.” replied the officer coldly. “I am also the commanding officer of the Star Destroyer Monolith.”

   “And I am-“ began the guard in reply.

   “You are an arrogant bastard who has just killed two of my TIE-Fighter pilots.” barked Arolsen. “Why did you fire on my ships?”

   “These, these – scum.” the guard spat the word out. “Stole a sacred artefact of the Brotherhood of the Silver Circle.”

   “Brotherhood of what?” said Arolsen incredulously.

   “Brotherhood of the Silver Circle, sir.” replied one of Arolsen’s officers. “They’re a religious order that’s been giving the local governor some problems on Vessen.”

   “Well since you’re so well informed, Lieutenant Affoe, perhaps you can tell me why they were attacking this lot.” he turned to look at the three smugglers. “They don’t look like Imperials to me.”

   “Sir.” replied the leader of the Stormtroopers. “We retrieved this from the Muurian transport. Apparently it was stolen from a Brotherhood temple.”

   The Stormtrooper handed a small silver statuette to the Commander. It depicted a male human standing in an upright circle. Arolsen stared at it in disbelief.

   “A statue?” he demanded.

Arolsen was tall but the Brotherhood guard was taller still and broader, a real monster. Yet the Commander’s punch was delivered with such force it lifted the guard off his feet, crashing to the floor on his buttocks.

   “This?” roared the Commander, standing over his fallen opponent. “You killed two of my pilots over an ornament?” he caught the guard a vicious blow in the side of the head with the statuette before tossing it on the floor. Drawing his pistol, he shot the figurine, which exploded in a shower of molten silver. “That’s what I think of your statue!” he shouted in the guard’s ear.

Turning on his heel, he marched towards the door, beckoning the Stormtrooper leader as he did so.

   “Sir, may I have a quiet word?” interrupted Lieutenant Affoe.

Arolsen paused, frowned, and nodded. He and Affoe walked out of earshot of the rest. The only one who could hear them was the presumed-unconscious Galletti.

   “Well?” demanded Arolsen.

   “Sir, the Imperial Governor on Vessen has offered a bounty for members of the Brotherhood.” said the Lieutenant.

   “Do they have to be alive?”

Affoe considered this. “I don’t think so, sir, no.”

   “Then have Lieutenant Farol and his Stormtroopers form up a firing squad.” said Arolsen. “Make sure that no Brotherhood member leaves this ship alive. Then load up the stiffs into a transport and have one of our tug pilots fly it down to Vessen, and tell the Governor there’s no charge. We don’t have time to wait around here for the locals’ gratitude.”

   “What about the other three?” asked the Lieutenant.

   “I don’t think the Governor will have any use for a trio of incompetent temple-robbers, somehow. They’re almost certainly smugglers, but I don’t have time to deal with them and I don’t think they’ve done anything that warrants shooting them.”

   “No, sir.” agreed Affoe.

   “Put them back in their ship and let them go.” continued the Commander. “They’re so stupid they’ll be dead in a week anyway.”

   “Yes, sir.” agreed Affoe.

On the floor a few metres away, Galletti’s heart leapt. Was this guy for real?

   “And we’ll keep that Corellian corvette for ourselves. Rename it the Equator. We need the ship space anyway.” concluded Arolsen. “Can I leave it in your hands, Lieutenant? I have work to do.”

   “Of course, Commander.” replied Affoe. “I see no problems here.”

   “Good.” replied Arolsen, and headed for the elevators.

The mood aboard the Rakuin was unpleasant as they made their way back to Abregado-rae. Between Guinez’ grief, Galletti’s fury and Teqe’s euphoria at still being alive, it was an explosive mixture.

Guinez sat impassively as Galletti bandaged a laceration on her arm where she’d been kicked by a Stormtrooper. Occasionally, a muffled curse could be heard from the next compartment where Teqe was searching for something behind one of the access panels.

   “What’s that idiot up to now?” murmured Galletti. Guinez shrugged and looked miserable.

   “Found it!” exclaimed Teqe triumphantly. “For a few minutes there I thought the Imps had found it after all.”

   “Found what?” asked Galletti, irritated but now also interested.

   “This!” replied Aries smugly, and held up a small silver statuette. “Thought they’d obliterated it aboard the Star Destroyer, didn’t you? But what they found was a fake!”

   “You’re telling us you had a counterfeit statuette?” said Galletti.

Aries nodded. “I had the fake with me when we went to the temple. I’d hoped to put the fake in the case so that no-one would know it was missing.”

   “Would your father know the difference?” asked Galletti suspiciously.

   “Probably not.” admitted Teqe.

   “What was the point of stealing the real one then?” demanded the older man.

   “The point is, I’d know it was a fake.” said the teenager.

   “I’m beginning to see that Imperial Commander’s point.” said Galletti, shaking his head. “All that fuss over an ugly little figurine. Hell, it’s not even good to look at.”

A week later, the final insult was added to the injury; Bura Teqe had made all the right grateful noises, but it was clear he didn’t like the statuette much, and neither did his new wife. Still, at least they were all back in one piece – most of them were back in one piece, Galletti corrected himself – and the wedding itself had gone smoothly.

As Galletti approached one of the food tables at the reception, a gran was greedily loading appetisers onto a plate. Seeing Galletti, the three-eyed alien gave a nervous grin and left to talk to a human pirate captain.

Probably the first time that pirate’s been washed this year, thought the smuggler nastily. He was just trying to decide between the Corellian sliced ifiawi and the Sonolan ceruz steak, when a hand clapped him on the shoulder.

Galletti turned to see the portly figure of Paael Teqe, who was sporting a broad smile beneath his moustache.

   “Goah my friend.” said the smuggler boss. “I didn’t have a chance to thank you for bringing my little brother back alive.”

   “It was more to do with the Empire’s indifference than my skill.” admitted Galletti. “And not all of us came back.”

Paael nodded. “I know. I already talked to Aries about that. He was very forthcoming about it, admitting his own mistakes. He’d never own up in front of you, but he knows he screwed up some.”

   “Some.” repeated Galletti.

   “What do you make of him? Generally.”

   “He gets on my nerves, he’s careless, he doesn’t plan properly.” replied Galletti. “But I must admit, he does have some good ideas. Maybe if you work on him for a while, he’ll turn out okay.”

            “My father will be proud.” laughed Paael. “He’s still hoping for more, you know.”

   “More children?” asked Galletti dubiously. “How old is he now?”

   “Sixty-two. Still young enough.” said Paael. “And my new stepmother is only thirty-six.”

   “Younger than you.” laughed Galletti.

Paael nodded glumly. “How is Guinez doing?”

Galletti looked across the hall to where Guinez, a tentative smile on her face, was talking to a handsome young man.

   “I think she’ll be okay.” said Galletti. “Now which do you recommend, the Corellian sliced ifiawi or the Sonolan ceruz steak?”

Captain Burgul glanced at the clock on his office wall and began closing down files on his desk terminal. The New Republic Army Intelligence officer didn’t like having sensitive information on display when the corporal was visiting.

Sure enough, four minutes later, there was a tap at the door.

   “Come in.” said Burgul.

   “Good afternoon, sir.” said the young human army corporal as he entered.

   “Take a seat, Corporal.” said the Captain without rising.

The human seated himself, trying not to smile.

Burgul sighed mentally. He knew the corporal was only eighteen years old, barely past adolescence in human terms. Burgul himself was Kadas'sa'Nikto, had two daughters at the age of Nikto adolescence, and it was starting to wear on his nerves. The problem was that the corporal thought the information he provided was very important. For the moment it wasn’t, but in the future it might be, so NRAI had to keep the corporal involved and interested. So Burgul had to humour him.

   “You asked to see me, Corporal.” stated Burgul. “Another letter?”

   “Yes, sir.” smiled the human, handing over the sheets of paper. “My father says that the Imperials are claiming to have trapped and killed a large number of Brotherhood guards.”

   “I see.” nodded the officer, eyeing the letter. “And have the Imperials offered any proof?” Burgul could read these details for himself in the letter, but he’d found in situations like this that it wouldn’t do any harm to know the boy’s interpretation of this father’s words.

   “They’ve offered fifty-five bodies as proof.” said the young soldier, leaning forward conspiratorially. Burgul copied the human’s body language. “But Dad told me the bodies arrived in a transport from off-planet.”  

   “I see.” said the officer, genuinely interested. “We shall have to keep an eye on this.”

   “Do you want me to do something, sir?” offered the corporal.

   “No, no.” Burgul shook his head emphatically. “We wouldn’t want to put you or your father in danger. Just keep passing the letters to me, and if we decide to do anything, we can put a team in place ourselves.”

   “Yes, sir.” the human looked slightly crestfallen.

   “Well, thank you Corporal Frankis.” said the Nikto with a smile. “This is much appreciated.”

   “Thank you, sir.” the young corporal rose, saluted and left.

After he was gone, Burgul read the letter for himself. It seemed the boy had interpreted the letter right; there was something odd about the deaths on Vessen. The Captain crossed the room to a filing cabinet, placed the letter in the second drawer, locked it, and returned to his terminal.