What Lies Within

1986/2003 short story by Mark Newbold and Jonathan Hicks

Four years after Episode IV – A New Hope

 “Mactin’s dead?”

Jan Lomona could hear his own incredulous words, but their true meaning had yet to hit home.  Goah Galletti smacked his fist into his open palm again as he fought the urge to strike something, stalking the room like a maddened beast.  Goah had told Jan ten minutes before, but the smuggler couldn’t believe it.  Mactin Selka.  Smuggler, pilot, friend to both Jan and Goah and a hugely experienced operator.  Dead?  It just didn’t seem right.  Stars burned themselves out and moons collided, but Mactin Selka was as constant as time.

Until time ran out for him.

Jan composed himself for a moment and focused on Goah.

   “Does Durne know?”

Galletti nodded briefly as he made another slower journey across the compact communications room, seconded on Level Eighteen of the monolithic Chancai Trade Centre.

   “I contacted him myself.”  He slowed his pace and looked ruefully at Jan.  “He was distraught.  I don’t know how Durne will cope with his brothers death.”

Jan sadly shook his head, images of his own two lost brothers flooding back to him.  He watched Goah as he blew out a long breath.  Galletti had lost his brother, sister and parents to the Empire, as well as his beloved wife Tref.  If anyone knew about grief it was Goah Galletti.

   “He’ll cope the same we all do.  In his own way.”  Jan lowered his head for a moment, remembering the many friends he’d lost over the years.  He’d been on Chancai for the last five days, as had Galletti, overseeing business for Glann Cipple.  As ever he had been quick about his work and had found time to catch up with a handful of old friends.  It had been an enjoyable distraction from his usual work routine, and he wished he could find more time to kick back and enjoy the friends he had made, and Paige, the daughter who had recently found him.  After this shock he promised himself that he would do just that.  He returned his eyes to Goah and narrowed them into slits, brimming with intent. “Do you know who did it?”

Even Jan was surprised at the intensity that burned in Goahs eyes as he turned to face the towering smuggler.  Jan hadn’t seen such anger and fury mixed on a face for a long time.  He almost didn’t recognise him.

   “Terrov.”

It was the only word Jan needed to hear.  Anything else would have been extraneous information.

   “When do we go?”

   “Two duargas.  That will be four donalees sir.”

Jan flipped the coins to the robo-barkeep and turned back towards the dark corner table where he and Goah were seated in shadow.  The Frequent Flyers Freakout Factory was a regular dive for traders and smugglers passing through Level Eighteen of the enormous centre, and Jan as was something of a frequent flyer himself he was more than familiar with the place.  The owner, a friendly native of Zelon named Drystill was a client of Lomona’s accepting various consignments of legal and illegal items on a semi-regular basis.  The Factory was a hiding hole that Jan liked, and he’d recommended it to a number of people over the years, Galletti included.  But today was not the time for a quiet chat and a friendly drink.  Today was all about business and revenge.

Jan took a deep chug from his glass and licked his lips free of the heavy beverage, casting a glance across the room and then back towards Goah.  The gunman had barely looked up from the table, his previous drink sitting undisturbed where it had been placed.  Jan smiled sadly, knowing what a valuable friend Mactin had been to Goah over the years, and his proficiency as both a co-pilot and confidante to Galletti.  It was a keen loss.

   “I had a word with Grin while I was out back,” began Jan, referring to the street urchin and informer who regularly travelled through the Mid-Rim, bumming lifts and waiting at the foot of freighter ramps, picking up news and gossip.  He grabbed a cockon and dropped it into his mouth.  Crunching on the snack, he grabbed another.  “He’s put out the feelers, started some enquiries.  He’ll find out where Terrov’s posted.”  Jan waited for Goahs response, but there was none.  “But I’ve got a feeling that even if he doesn’t come up trumps, you’ll search every star until you find him anyway.”

   “That bastard is already dead.” answered Goah meanly, coming to life as if by the flick of a hidden switch.  Lomona nodded slowly and took another sip.

   “I wish it was that easy.”  He paused, choosing his words carefully.  “Look, I’m no expert on the matter but I do know payback takes time.  Life doesn’t just throw these things into your lap.”  Goah looked up at Jan, anger and mild confusion covering his face.  Jan shrugged.  “All I’m saying is, this’ll take time.”

   “I’ve got time.  All the time it takes to bring down that murderous scum.”  Goah rapped his knuckles lightly against the course wood of the tabletop.  “Do you know what that…” He struggled to find the right word that summed up his emotions.  “Frecker did to my wife?”

Jan knew first hand the story of Goahs late wife more times than he cared to remember.  It was a tale of sorrow that had eaten away at Galletti for many years.  Jan wondered if it was that which had caused his slide into the depths of sullen depression that had plagued his friend these past few years.  Jan had never married, and Frans Latka, the woman he was engaged to he had been less than faithful to.  To love someone enough to marry them, and then to lose them.  He didn’t think his heart could bare that.

   “I know Goah.”  He nodded sadly.  “I know.”  Jan paused, unsure of what to say next.  He didn’t wish to sound glib or dismissive, but he knew he would.  “It doesn’t help, but life goes on.  Tref and Mactin are gone now, and there’s nothing we can do about that.  You’ve got to focus on your life and make the most of it.”

   “Life?” sneered Goah, straightening up and glaring at Lomona.  “Life?  You call this a life?”  He threw a disdainful look around the room.  “Hiding in filthy tapcafés with you, while my wife and friends rot in their graves?  This isn’t life, it’s a life sentence.”

I didn’t realise you felt that way, thought Jan to himself as he watched Goah and waited for him to calm down.  The fire in the assassins’ eyes was burning brightly and it was a look Jan was familiar with.  And hundreds of others who had crossed the Trefnarians path.  Galletti meant business, and beware anyone who got in his way.

Jan included.

   “We both lost a friend today.  Mactin was a good man.  I think he’d want us to knuckle down and get through this–“

   “Who gives a damn what you think!” exploded Goah suddenly, pushing himself from the table and standing to his feet.  Jan leaned back in surprise, not expecting such a volatile reaction and froze, unsure of what Galletti was going to do next.  The black clad assassin bore a hole through Jan as he hovered over him, his barely pent-up fury brimming over.  Jan composed himself and looked calmly up at his friend, motioning to the fallen chair.

   “Sit down Goah.”

Goah barely hid the curled snarl that crinkled his lip and knelt down to retrieve the chair from the Factories floor, for the moment thinking better of tackle the experienced two and a half metre tall bar room brawler in his own environment.  Goahs field of expertise was with a rifle in his hands.  Then, he thought to himself, watching Jan as he sat down, you wouldn’t be so damn cocky.

   “Gentlemen, if I may take a moment of your time?”

Jan and Goah looked up as a human and an Ithorian joined them by the table.  The human who had addressed them smiled courteously and extended a hand to Goah.

   “Doctor Evvran Joenligg.  This is my associate Doctor Thrace Meenton.”

Galletti ignored the proffered hand.

   “Get lost.”

Joenligg continued, undeterred.

   “My colleague and I are seeking passage to the Escall System.  We are eminent archaeologists.”  He glanced at Jan, realising by his clothing and demeanour that he was the pilot.  “It’s a matter of some urgency.”

   “It always is.” smiled Jan, gesturing to the empty seats around the table.  The two men seated themselves and waved away the robo-tender that flew by.  “So, Escall.  You boys have business there?”

   “Pressing business.” spoke up Meenton.  He glanced at his superior Joenligg, as if to check he was allowed to speak.  “We have matters of high office to attend to.”

“What my erstwhile partner means to say is,” interjected Joenligg swiftly, “Is that we are on a strict timetable.  Certain…deadlines have to be adhered to.”

Jan threw Goah a sly look.

   “Imminent deadlines?”

   “Yes sir.”

Jan dropped the smile.

   “Well, that’ll cost.  Freighters don’t come cheap, especially mine.”  He raised his eyebrows in a conspiratorial manner.  “And there ain’t many souped up like the Sunrise.”

Meenton looked surprised.

   “The Berone Sunrise?”

Jan looked sideways at Goah, a smirk melting across his features.

   “That’s right.  You’ve heard of her?”

   “Who hasn’t?” added Joenligg, an air of satisfaction apparent in his voice.  Jan grinned broadly.  Finally, someone with taste.

   “So, a trip out to Escall.  Right away.”

   “Expedience is the key.”  He raised his chin as he addressed Jan.  “And finance is no problem.”

The doctor spoke the language of money, which Jan appreciated.  He was fluent in nine languages, and money was one of them.

   “Well my good doctors, it appears you got yourselves a ship.”

   “And they paid the full fee upfront, which is a bonus.”  Jan grinned as he patted his bulging front pocket but could see that Goah was paying little attention.  “You’ve got nothing on with Glann, why not come along?  The break’ll do you good.”  Jan stood straight, placing the quadex power feeder cable onto the top of a packing crate and clapped his hands free of dust.  He was concerned about Galletti.  Even given his volatile and sparky nature, his reaction at the Freakout Factory earlier was distinctly out of character and Jan wondered just what kind of havoc he would wreak if not kept in check.  Not that Jan could ever keep Goah in check, especially these days.  He continued.  “It’s a simple run, direct there and direct back.  We should be back on Amagad in two days.  What do you say?”

Galletti gave a shallow nod in return, signalling his acquiescence.  Satisfied, Jan returned to his pre-flight duties.  In the distance, Meenton and Joenligg entered the vast docking bay of Level Eighteen and made their way through freighters, custom ships, fighters and speeders until they reached the area that held the Sunrise.  Jan once again dusted down his hands and lowered the ramp for them to enter.

  “Glad you could make it.”  He waved them in.  “My friend will be joining us for the duration of the trip.”  Jan motioned to Goah, who scowled back at the three of them.  “Take-off in ten minutes.  Aurran!”  Lomona’s trusty and ancient droid lumbered his way to the top of the ramp.  “Give these gentlebeings their transponders and show them to their quarters.”

   “At once Master Lomona.”  Aurran collected the bags from the two doctors and made his way inside as Jan completed the final pre-flight checks that he had made so many times before.  Satisfied that all was well he watched Galletti board his freighter and locked down the final few hatches and compartments, and then walked the ramp himself into the body of his ship.  A brief discussion with the portmaster and he was cleared to disembark, and scant minutes later Chancai and Zelon were just another speck in the cosmos.

The journey to Escall passed without incident.

That is unless you regard such occurrences as two blazing rows, an unscheduled bump out of hyperspace in a region of the sector known for pirate attacks and a bout of food poisoning as incidents.  In that case the eight-hour circuitous journey was incident packed.  Initially the trip was quiet and without problems, until Jan and Goah started a discussion on the merits of free trading as opposed to the merits of being a hitman, Goah seeing little merit in the smuggling trade and Jan none whatsoever in being a hired killer, which escalated into a heated discussion and finally Aurran inventing a fake emergency to stop the two men from thumping each other repeatedly.  And then after the false emergency an interdictor field dragged the Sunrise out of hyperspace into the Eleffs Expanse, a long but narrow stretch of space that had to be traversed in order to swiftly reach Escall from Zelon, dropping her directly into the midst of a pirate attack on a cruise liner. Despite the best efforts of the doctors to diffuse this one, another argument sprang up, this time between Jan insisting they strike a deal and aide the stricken vessel and Galletti firmly making the point that they should leave the scene and return to hyperspace and Escall.  On this occasion Goah was backed up by the two doctors, and so Jan found himself out numbered, and knowing he would require their assistance to have any hope of making his gambit a success he decided to swing away from the pirate attack and return to hyperspace.

On board the atmosphere was less than civil, and strangely enough a change had occurred.  Whereas before it was Jan who was civil to the two passengers and Goah was quiet and sullen, now Jan was visibly agitated by them.

True to form Galletti remained quiet and sullen.

Just over an hour before arrival at Escall Aurran prepared a light meal for the four humans and laid it out in the galley for them to dip in when they so desired, and returned to the landing strut assembly he was working on in the lower portion of the ship.  He heard the mumbles of satisfaction above him, and then the groans of discomfort as the doctors’ experienced sudden and explosive food poisoning and swiftly carried himself up top to find his galley redecorated and his attempts at culinary satisfaction sprayed in ten directions.  Jan and Goah joined him a moment later, hanging back in the doorway and checking the untouched food that Aurran had laid out for them.

   “I think I’ll wait till we get to a Zythlies,” said Lomona, turning past Goah and grinning as he checked the scene.

   “Likewise.” replied the gunman as he returned to his seat.

An hour later and the haul of retro’s screamed through the heavy air as the stock heavy Berone Sunrise skipped like a stone through the atmosphere of Escall and manoeuvred her way to a landing in a vast and wide glade.  It was mid-morning and the sky was bright and full of life, birds and gliding reptiles swinging their way overhead.  Jan powered his ship down to hot standby and swung his jacket on, aware that while Escall may look warm and inviting she had a decidedly deceptive wind that could cut through permacrete.

   “Doctors, if you’ll follow me.  I know a speeder rank that’ll take you into the city for a good price.”

Doctor Joenligg smiled courteously and shook his head.

   “Many thanks captain, but our travel arrangements are well in hand.”  He raised an eyebrow at Meenton, who followed with Aurran and their luggage.  “We’re being met by our associates, to be taken to a private location.”

   “Matters of high office.” Interjected Meenton again, and receiving yet another stinging glare from Joenligg.  Jan stuck out his lower lip and nodded, as if unbothered by this.

   “Well that’s fine by me.”  He glanced at Goah who stood leaning against the forward landing claw, disinterest emanating from him like a noxious cloud.  “Me and my friend here have our own business to attend to.  Matters of high urgency.”

   “Then we’ll take up no more of your time.”  Joenligg extended his hand and shook Jans.  “Many thanks for the passage Captain Lomona.  You have a fine ship.”  He rubbed his stomach.  “Although your galley could do with an overhaul.”

Jan raised his eyebrows in agreement and grinned as he turned towards the Sunrise.

   “I’ll bear that in mind.”  Jan stood at the foot of the ramp in the bright morning chill and watched the two doctors waddle their way towards the tree line with their heavy baggage and out of sight as Goah re-entered the freighter and began to gather his equipment for the hour long hike to the nearest settlement.  Jan knelt down and snapped up a stalk of grass, chewing on the root and watching birds twirl their songs through the air, seemingly without a care in the world.  If only life were that easy, he thought as he moved up the ramp and into his quarters. 

   “Y’know, before Endor I couldn’t remember the last time we hiked through a forest.  A few weeks later and here we are again.”  Smiled Jan, looking sideways at Galletti as the gunman pushed up north towards yet another hilltop.  The Trefnarian raised his eyebrows in agreement.

   “It ‘d been a while.”  He swatted a batch of bothersome flies away with his free hand.  “Which is fine with me.  I hate forests.”

   “You hate anything with a pulse.”  Jan paused.  “You hate anything without a pulse.  Gotta hand it to you buddy, you don’t discriminate.”

   “Don’t read too much into that.” Galletti swatted back, and an easy smile melting across his face like a valve releasing pressure.  Jan had almost forgotten the man that Galletti used to be, before the killing and the assassin work.  A man he thought lost forever, until that smile lit his face.  Lomona often wondered what it was Goah had seen or done that had changed the easy, carefree young man he used to know into the cold killer of today.  Certainly he’d seen more than his share of misery and destruction, but then so had Jan.  Galletti had lost his wife Tref as well as a brother and a sister; Lomona had been forced to kill his own elder brother Hijjin.  Jan was for all intents and purposes estranged from his own world.  Galletti had no real desire to return to his.  Lomona drifted from job to job with little path or purpose in his life.  Galletti seemed to have acquired an agenda to his existence – bring pain and misery to the enemies of Glann Cipple.  For sure, Jan had seen trouble and bother, but not on the scale of Galletti.  But despite all that he couldn’t pinpoint the genesis of the turn from the Galletti of before to the Galletti that swatted flies with intent beside him today.

Jan was sure that he’d find out some day.

The forest thinned, revealing the outskirts of a compact city that led through a boulevard of trees to the coastline of Escalls second largest ocean.  Jan lengthened his stride as the grass turned to permacrete and soon Galletti and Lomona were in the boundaries of the city of Elvrenns.   It was a small city that both had visited before on their various trips to Escall, and despite its diminutive size Elvrenns was among the most visited places on the planet.  Jan led the way, taking them through the main thoroughfare towards the business district of town, through that and along the quayside and into a large warehouse complex.  Galletti held himself tight, ready for action, tensed like a cat prepared for attack.  Lomona walked with the easy air of a man in control of both himself and his surroundings.

Even though he was patently neither.

A door opened and a wafer-thin figure walked through, blaster in hand and a twisted grin across his features.  Jan stared blankly at the alien, its pale green skin glowing slightly in the shadows.  So this dude is no master of stealth, that’s for sure, thought Jan to himself.  He frowned slightly as Goah nudged past him and extended a hand to the alien, his face remaining stoic.

   “Jork.”

   “Goah.”  The alien replied, taking the assassins calloused hands, worn from years of repeated blaster use, and shaking it heartily.  Although their faces didn’t reveal it, they were clearly friends.  Or at the very least useful acquaintances.  Jork motioned for them to follow, and Galletti took the lead from Jan as they entered the room.

It was a gambling den and around the various tables sat a bunch of underworld types Jan knew well.  He acknowledged a handful as he followed Goah to the rear of the room and sat next to the black clad assassin.  Goah nodded to someone in a dark recess of the room and sat back in his seat. 

   “So, do you mind telling me who the freck that was?” asked Jan.  “I thought I was leading this party.”

   “You were, until your invite ran out.” Answered Goah.  “Jork is a man of many skills.  You’d do well to become his friend.”

   “I don’t make friends with people who glow in the dark.”

   “With a dress sense like yours I find that surprising.”

Jan looked Goah up and down with a barely hidden sneer.

   “If I glowed in the dark I’d be on and off like a flashlight.  Besides, it’s time someone told you the spectrum doesn’t begin and end with black.”

Goah stared straight ahead as a drink was placed before him.

   “Everything begins and ends in black.”

Jan pondered the deeper meanings of that statement for a moment before checking the room out once again.

   “So how do you know this dive?  I thought it was a little hole that only I knew about.”

   “I’ve never been here before but I know some of the faces.”  He looked sideways at Lomona.  “Sometimes it pays to get around.”

   “Oh I get around alright.” Replied Jan.  “Just not down to the levels you do.”  He raised a hand in acknowledgement of the harshness of the statement.  “No offence.”

   “None taken.”  Galletti scanned the room again, mentally tallying up the bounties on display, for later opportunities.  “So why bring us here?  You said this was a simple drop, a two day job.”

Jan shrugged his shoulders and sipped at his brew.

   “We made good time, and our passengers were no trouble.  Didn’t think it would hurt to scope out the state of play round here, make some contacts.”  He rolled his drink in its glass.  “Besides, I bet you’ve tallied up the total for this dive already.”

   “Forty grand at a push, not including you and me.”

   “Of course.  My butts worth more than that.”

And your ego, thought Galletti to himself.  The assassin pushed on with his line of questioning.

   “So, what now?”  He knew what he would have done himself, if he had decided to lead the excursion into town.  Thirty targets in here would be congealing already if he’d had the final word.  But, Jan had taken the initiative, and so this jaunt was purely profit and information based, a smugglers mission.  Head counts would have to wait until later.

   “We mingle.  Find out what the word is.”  He frowned at Goah.  “Come on GG, you know the routine.”

Galletti did indeed, but it sometimes felt like a hazy recollection from a distant past, almost like another life.  He stood and made his way into the crowd as Jan stepped up to the bar.

   “Flameout,” he asked the robo-tender, and waved his empty glass in its direction.  The ice cold, red-hot drink filled the glass from an extension the tender looped out from across the bar and Jan took a sip as it settled in the glass.  He thanked his lucky stars that A-desandians were practically immune to the disabling effects of alcohol, his blood type being slightly different to average humans, and eyed those humans and aliens in the vicinity.  Before he could start a conversation with any of them he felt a tap on his shoulder.

   “Lomona, right?” asked the tall Entallian standing behind him.  Jan turned slightly.

   “Who wants to know?”

   “Offexx Carrn.  We did a job together ten years ago for Jabba.”

Jan couldn’t recall the Entallian, or the mission.

   “Remind me.”

   “Run out to Ord Mantell, dropping off some scaffolding.”  Jan shook his head, still hazy on the particular job.  “You sold some DL-7 on the side.”

   “Offexx,” laughed Jan warmly, still totally oblivious to whom he was speaking to but wakened by the mention of illegal spice jogging his memory like an electric shock.  “It’s been a while.”

   “Yep.  Ten years.  What you been up to?”

Jan did a mental rundown of all he had done in the last decade.  Working for Jabba the Hutt, Glann Cipple and numerous other ganglords, operating his own smuggling concern, getting engaged, breaking up, getting engaged again, becoming governor of his home worlds capital city and then seeing it destroyed by the forces of the Empire.  Making a good name for himself in the underworld as a smuggler who gets the job done, and fast.  Discovering a long-lost daughter he never knew existed.  Mastering the lost art of the power nap.

   “This and that.  You?”

   “Same.”  Offexx caught himself as he remembered something.  “Oh yeah, a friend of yours passed through here the other day.  Yesterday.  Oh, what was his name?”  He hovered on the spot, willing the name to drop into his head.  “Litti, was it?  Lotti?  Lotti Tallax?”

   “Latti Tellex?” asked Jan, all pretences of politeness dropping away.  Latti was one of Jans oldest smuggling colleagues, and a genuine friend to both him and Goah.  But he was supposed to be running through Gista this week for Glann.  What the hell was he doing on Escall?

   “Tellex, that’s it.  Yeah, he came through the day before last.  Said he’d heard of something going down in the forest to the south of the city and wanted to check it out.  Seemed really serious about it too.”

Latti?  Serious?  The only thing he gets serious about is cockons.  Jan grabbed a handful of the crunchy, shell-shaped wheat snacks off the bar and emptied them into his mouth.  Whatever had caught his attention must have been important for him to blow off a job for Glann and then take a hike into the forest. Latti wasn’t known for being the rugged, outdoors type.  On the contrary, he once got lost on his own ship.

   “Did he come in his ship?” asked Lomona.  Offexx nodded.

   “Yep, parked out back.” 

Jan followed the Entallian to the rear of the warehouse where Latti’s ship the Cronta’s Lady sat patiently, waiting for her owner to return.  She was an old vessel, practically an antique, and there were a queue of pilots who would have loved to get their hands on her and try her out, but Latti was resolute.  Unlike so many in the Setnin Sector, this lady was not for sale.

   “So where in the forest did he go?” asked Jan, hands on hips and a squint in his eye, as the bright noon sun was counterpoint to the brisk chill that ran through the air.  Like so many others before him, he had a bad feeling about this.  “He must have given you more than just south.”

Offexx raised the hard ridge above his eyes that Jan guessed acted as an eyebrow and checked left and right before he spoke.

   “Word is, there’s an outpost in the forest.”

   “Outpost?  What kind of outpost?”

   “Like the ones on Zelon, outside of Chancai.”

Jan froze.  Those were Imperial outposts.  If Latti had got his snooping hat on, he could be in big trouble.

   “Did he say why he was going out there?”

Offexx shook his head.

   “No, just that he figured there could be some kind of reward attached.”

   “And you didn’t try to talk him out of it?”

Offexx pulled a face of surprise.

   “Are you kidding?  He works for Glann Cipple, I wouldn’t cross him.  Besides, he’s friends with Galletti.”  Jan glanced across the room as Goah shoved a large man into a corner booth and followed, intent on his face.  “I’m not crazy.”

Lomona blew out a long breath and nodded as he kept his eye on Goah.

   “Point taken.  But I need to know what’s happened to my pal.”

Offexx raised his hands in front of his face.

   “Whoa, look.  I told you everything.  The base in the south forest.  That’s all I know.”

Jan snarled under his breath and left the bar, walking towards the booth Goah and the other man were occupying.  Galletti was giving him the third degree, roughing him up and pressurising him into divulging some information.  Jan paused for a second as he summed up the situation and stepped past Goah.

   “We haven’t got time for this.”  Jan loomed in front of the man and landed a heavy blow square in his face, decking him like a puppet with its strings cut and raised a finger to silence Goah before he could even begin his angry reply.

   “Latti’s here and he’s in trouble.  We’ve got to go.  Now.”

Goah narrowed his eyes and stared at the prone figure slumped on the ground.

   “This space trash knows about Glann’s runs into Quarshannel.”  Goah made for the rifle that was hidden under his long black overcoat.  “That’s privileged information.  Glann’s got an informer.”

   “We’ll deal with it later, there’s work to do.”

   “Glann ordered me to sort out these situations – “

Jan leaned in close to Goah, right up to his ear.

   “I’ll say this once.   We’ve already lost a friend today.  I don’t want to lose another.  Got it?”

Jan rarely got serious with Galletti.  Indeed, he rarely got serious with anyone at all, and was one of only a handful of men who could walk away from such a confrontation with Galletti.  Goah knew that the situation was indeed dire.

   “Got it.”  He nodded his agreement.  “Let’s go.”

   “You got everything?”

   “Yes Master Jan, your equipment is ready.”

Jan nodded with satisfaction as he thumbed the comm. to reply.

   “Well done old man, we’ll be there in three.”

   “Very good sir.”

Jan pocketed his comm unit and shielded his eyes to the sun as the topped the last hill and looked down the vast glade to where the Berone Sunrise sat, alone in the middle of a natural bowl of grass.  The two men upped the paced and jogged down to the freighter, where Aurran waited at the top of the ramp, their equipment kits at the ready.  Jan shrugged off the large and colourful jacket he was wearing and replaced it with a thin combat fatigue, insulated against the cold air.  Flipping on a pair of shades he was ready.  Goah took the bag off Aurran and did the same, taking off his long black overcoat and replacing it with a forest fatigue and shades.  A minute of checking their equipment and they were ready.  Jan faced Aurran.

   “Go to the cockpit and scan to the north.  We need to know how far away this base is.  I’ll keep the comm open until we hit trouble.  After that, you know what to do.”

Aurran nodded as he activated the ships security measures, the Sunrise sitting on hot standby. 

   “Yes Master Jan.  Take care sir.”

   “You too.”

Goah pointed towards the tree line where the two doctors had left and began in that direction.  Jan talked to Aurran over the comm for the first few klicks, ascertaining the distance and direction of the base Latti had so foolishly gone searching for.  What the hell has got into him? Thought Jan to himself, annoyance with his good friend brimming over.  As if we’ve not lost enough friends to scum like Terrov, he has to go looking for trouble.

Goah suddenly lowered himself and knelt down, Jan following suit.  He pointed above and ahead, just as a trio of TIE fighters screamed overhead.  They followed the trajectory of the TIE’s to the rim of a massive mountain, and watched as they descended towards a base carved into the side of it.  It was an enormously impressive structure that must have taken many months, if not years to build.  Jan looked at Goah, who looked right back.

   “How the hell did we not know about this?” asked Goah.

   “You read my mind.”  Jan took another cautious look, checking above for more fighters.  “We’d have known if Glann had any intell on it.”

Goah nodded in agreement.

   “Correct.  So if Latti has stumbled upon it…”

   “Then he’s in way too deep.”

They continued their approach, staying in the bushes and thin trees that led to the lower reaches of the mountain.  Once there the brush and bushes ended, relieved by cold shale and stone.  Still, they were afforded enough cover to get close enough to the entrance and make a temporary base camp, allowing them to get a better look at the base.  Goah pulled out a pair of macrobinoculars and zoomed in to the opening.

   “What do you see?” asked Jan.  Goah frowned.

   “Crap loads of Imperials, what do you think.”

   “Can you see Latti?”

Goah lowered the binoculars and gave Jan a tired look.

   “Of course I can, their holding him by the front entrance.  No I can’t see Latti.”  He returned to his viewing.  “I can’t see much of anything.  Wait a second.”  Goah fell silent as he adjusted the toggles on the side of the macrobinoculars.  Jan looked at him eagerly.

   “Well?  Wait a second for what?”

Galletti lowered the binocs.

   “Your two archaeologist friends weren’t kidding when they said they had matters of high office to attend to.”

   “What?” said Jan incredulously, taking the binocs off Goah and checking for himself.  He watched in surprise as Meenton and Joneligg shook hands with a handful of Imperial officers, clearly oblivious to the fact that they themselves were being watched.  Jan let out a long breath of disappointment and handed the binocs back to Goah.  He rolled onto his back and paused for a second, taking out a small flask of Duarga and nailing back a shot.  Sure enough, the two archaeologists had well and truly taken him for a ride.

Jan hated being played.

   “So what do we do?” asked Lomona, turning his attention back to Galletti.  He could see Goah formulating a devilish plan so fiendish in its intricacies as to be woven by a supercomputer.  He waited for Goahs response.

   “We wait”

   “We wait?”  Jan shook his head in opposition.  “No, no, no.  Latti’s down there.  We can’t leave him with them; he’ll shoot his mouth off like he always does.  Except this time he doesn’t have us to back him up.”

   “And if we go blasting down there all guns blazing then we’re just as likely to get him killed.”  Goah lifted the binocs again for a final check.  “Besides, you always manage to come up with a…” He stopped talking so abruptly that Jan checked for blaster holes in his jacket.  The A-desandian hovered for a second.

   “What?”

Goah folded the binocs away and raised his rifle to his eye, taking aim immediately with the scope.

   “Change of plan.”

Jan grabbed Goah hard by the shoulder.

   “Care to share?  What’s got you so fired up all of a sudden.”

Galletti pointed down to the gathering, his finger shaking with rage.

   “Terrov.”  He raised the rifle again.  “And this might be my only chance to nail the bastard.”

Jan shook his head again, almost frantically as he again pulled Goah from his shot.

   “Look, this isn’t an arcade game, this isn’t one of your recurring dreams when you just walk away.  That’s a fully stationed Imperial outpost down there.  With our friend in it.  You want Terrov, fine.  Can’t say I blame you after what he’s done to you.  But if you nail him now then me, Latti and probably you are gonna die because of it.”  Jan gave him a serious but supportive look.  “Believe me Goah, I’m with you one hundred percent on this kill Terrov deal.  But let’s think this through, okay?”

Goah paused in thought and Jan thought he might just go ahead with the shot and deal with the ramifications later.  Jan breathed a silent prayer as he lowered both the TY-96 rifle and his head and spoke into the ground.

   “So what now?”

Jan looked in at the entrance again as the group of archaeologists and Imperials moved back inside the base.  He checked that all his equipment was secure and his P-48 type three blaster was in order and stood in a low crouch. 

   “I’m going inside to check it out.  You’re staying here and watching my back with that rifle.”

   “There’s no way you’ll get in there without being spotted.”

Jan began to jog away, down through the broken rocks, keeping tight against the rocky formations that carved their way into the entrance.  Goah hissed after him.

   “Are you crazy?”

Jan turned and threw Galletti a smirk as wide as a Hutts belly.

   “You have to ask?”

And he was gone.

Twenty minutes passed before Galletti saw Lomona again, sneaking around the back of a six man grouping of Stormtroopers and behind another large rock, up onto the path that he took to get down and finally back to Goahs position.  He was sweating profusely, his face marked with the early swellings of bruising.  His jacket was torn and he clearly carried a limp.  Goah shook his head in disbelief.

   “What the freck happened.”

Jan shrugged the question away nonchalantly.

   “I’ll tell you later.  First, we’ve got to get Latti out of there and fast.”

   “Why?  What’s in there?”

Jan drew deep breaths to steady his racing pulse and raised his eyebrows.

   “What isn’t in there.  I could see starship sub frames being constructed.  They’re planning something big, just don’t know what it is yet.  And there’s something else.”

Goah didn’t like the way Jan said that last part, at all.

   “What else?”

   “Janos Jewel.  Tonnes of it.  Being carved out of the ground.  Looks like they’ve built themselves a mine of some kind.  It’s being brought out from a deep cavern.  I didn’t see it but I overheard some commanders talking about it.”  He paused again to catch his breath.  “Sounds like it goes down a few klicks.”

   “And we’re right on top of it.”  Galletti caught Jans nod out of the corner of his eye, but his full attention was on the cavern entrance before them.  Jan spoke again.

   “We need a way in, free Latti fast and nail Terrov.  And a side order of miracle wouldn’t hurt either.”

Miracles never hurt, thought Goah to himself.  Because they never happen.

   “There’s only one way to get this done.” Said Galletti firmly as he stood to his feet.  Jan held up his hand wearily, making Goah pause.

   “Just a second.  Is this the hero moment when we go in all guns blazing?”

Galletti straightened his equipment belt and nodded.

   “Yes.”

Jan joined him on his feet.

   “Good.  I’d hate to miss out on any heroics.”

   “Alright, after three.”

   “Do you mean one, two, three and go or one, two and go on three?”

Goah raised the rifle and began to run down the incline, his footsteps managing to sound like velvet hitting silk.  Clearly he’d already finished his countdown and Jan cursed in A-desandian as he followed.  They ran for what seemed like an age but was only a matter of seconds before they encountered the first group of troops and blasted their way through like a sabre through lard, dispatching the men like skittles.  Jan continued his run into the cavern entrance, lancing fire at everything that moved and watched as Galletti rained laser bolts like an avenging angel.  

They were making good progress, cutting through the surprised and unprepared troops at speed and were soon well inside the cavern.  Jan gulped in realisation as the scale of the cavern hit him.  It was truly as if the mountain had been scooped out from the inside, and the brightness of the outside world was soon a memory as he noticed the sunlight being negated by a force field that seemed to emanate dark light.  Of course, sunlight decays Janos Jewel.  Makes it explode.  It all began to make terrible sense, and he was so deep into his musings and so into the killing zone that he didn’t notice the huge masses of reinforcements that had marched into the melee, or Goah as he realised he was vastly out numbered.  Or Terrov as he witched the fight with an air of smug satisfaction painted across his face.  Jan spun around to continue his attack and grimaced, throwing his blaster down on the ground in frustration as at least twenty rifles were aimed directly at him.  He cursed again, heard Galletti do the same and waited for the flash of blaster and the end of his short but eventful life.

But it never came.

   “Captain Lomona.”  Terrov’s voice echoed around the cavern like rolling thunder, his deep voice given added bass by the hard rocks.  “Goah Galletti.”  He seemed to savour saying Goahs name, rolling it around his mouth like a fine wine.  “I would have thought you dead by now.”

   “Better kill me while you have the chance you piece of …”

Terrov wagged a finger at him as he interjected.

   “Now, now Goah.  There are ladies present.”  He motioned for the troopers to manacle both men.  “Ahh Goah.  Finally you and I can have a little talk.”  He smiled again, like oil on water.  “I’m sure there are many things you want to ask me.”

Galletti remained silent as the handcuffs were secured tight around his wrists and he was shoved on his way towards the prison block.  Goah watched as Jan was shoved in a similar manner and gave Terrov the most venomous glare.

   “I swear you’ll be dead by daybreak.”

Terrov half grinned.

   “Down here we don’t care if it’s day or night.  And very soon neither will you.  Take them away.”

The cell was sparse, even by Imperial standards.  Thick iron bars ran around in a square three meters, a simple mattress lay on the dirt strewn floor, a bucket acted as a make shift lavatory.  Jan was on the edge of the mattress, knees brought up to his chest to keep himself warm.  An air duct that ran from the outside and down to the mine below passed directly through the prison block, making for almost freezing temperatures.  Jan blew out a cold stream of air and looked up at Goah, pacing the small cell like a caged animal, just like he had a day before when he’d heard of Mactins death.  And now here we are, about to join him.

Goah had scanned the other cages around them to see if he could locate Latti, but hadn’t heard or seen his friend and he wondered if this was indeed the main prison block or simply a holding cell before standard Imperial interrogation.  Goah had been a guest of Imperial hospitality before, as had Jan, and had little desire to be subjected to it again.  He began pacing again.

   “For frecks sake, sit down will you.  You’re making me seasick.”

Goah turned swiftly and glared at Jan, who looked surprisingly small curled up on the ground, wrapped around himself for warmth.  Goah blinked slowly, composing himself and saving his strength for better battles and leaned against the bars.

   “This is just a holding cell, we won’t be here for long.”

   “Good.  Don’t think I could take much more of the five star treatment.”

They both looked up as the main door opened and six Imperial Stormtroopers entered the prison block, swatting batons at hands or tentacles that dared to overhang outside the bars and marched directly towards Goah and Jans cage.  Galletti stepped away from the bars, his hands still manacled.  Lomona struggled to his feet and waited for the troops.

   “Come with us.  The commander wants to speak with you.”

Both men knew that speak was a very loose term for what Terrov wanted, and left the room wondering what Terrov’s chat held in store for them both.  They were marched down a dark, barely lit corridor to another intersection where they bore left through what appeared to be natural tunnelling and into a metal walled room.  The guards left the two men alone in this brightly lit room and they looked at each other briefly as they scoped out their surroundings.  They may have had their hands manacled. But given the chance they would make a fight of it.  After all, the events of Endor just a few weeks ago surely made the Empire a spent force.  Goah Galletti and Jan Lomona would have little trouble fighting their way through this…

   “Gentlemen.”  It was Terrov’s voice, but neither man could see him.  “I would offer you a seat, but as you can see this room is a trifle sparse.”

Goah grimaced as he began to walk forward, Jan following a few steps behind.

   “I didn’t come to chat.  I came for you.”

   “Of course you did Goah.”  Terrov’s voice seemed to be floating about them like a mist and Goah gave up trying to locate it.  “If you really wanted me dead Goah, do you think I’d even be on the same planet.  After all the things I’ve done to you.”  An edge of twisted humour began to leak into Terrov’s voice like a tumour.  “Your lovely wife, oh what was her name?”

   “Tref.” said Goah quietly under his breath, as if saying the name out loud would hurt too much.  Jan stayed back, knowing Goahs volatile temperament of late.  Friend or not, he didn’t want to get in the middle of this particular argument.  He had a long enough of a list of enemies without taking on board other peoples.

   “Ahh yes, the beautiful Tref.  She was quite the firebrand you know.  She put up a good fight, near the end.”  Terrov’s voice dropped another octave.  “If she had been more co-operative, who knows?  She may have survived.”

   “I know what you did to her you son-of-a-bitch!” screamed Goah, fighting against his bindings, drawing blood from his wrists.  Jan made as if to step forward but paused.  This was something Galletti needed to do.  Cleanse his soul and his guilt over his wife’s murder.

   “You know, do you?  I doubt that very much.”  Another pause.  “She loved you, you know.  Right until the very end.  She kept whispering in my ear, `Goah, oh Goah.’  But then, women often say the wrong thing at the wrong time.  Isn’t that right Captain Lomona.”

Jan looked up in surprise at the mention of his name, lost as he was in the vindictiveness of the commander’s words.  He stepped alongside Goah, shoulder to slumped shoulder and lifted his chin.

   “Women do a lot of things.  So do men.  But scum’s the same the universe over.”  He grinned, something he felt loathe doing but necessary.  “I guess you’re the authority on that.”

   “If you say so Captain.  Oh Goah, one more thing.  Your friend Mactin Selka.”  Terrov began to chuckle, a chuckle that mutated into a laugh.  “So much blood.  I wouldn’t have believed it if I hadn’t seen it for myself.  And bright blue.  I don’t know how I’m going to get the stain from my hands”

Goah was shaking with rage, unable to find the words to express himself without raving like a lunatic.  Jan shook his head and breathed deeply through his nose.  He’d seen and heard many things, but this really was close to the top of the disgusting list.  He spat on the ground in front of him and turned to leave.

   “C’mon Goah.  I’d rather stew in a latrine than listen to this.”

   “You’re a dead man Terrov!” screamed Goah again, spittle flying through the air, his hair ragged and wild.  “A dead man!”

Terrov laughed again as he closed the tannoy down.

   “One day Goah.  But not today.”

Jan led Goah towards the door they had entered through, where waiting for them were the guards who had marched them there.  They were led back down the dimly lit corridor to the intersection, but instead of turning right back they way they had come they carried on into another detention block.  This was much brighter, with more room and facilities.  The door slid open and they entered.  Goah immediately collapsed on the bed, unable to get his hands up to his face to wipe away the angry tears that swelled there.  Jan stood in the corner, respectfully turning his face away so’s not to crowd Goah.  His friend had too many ghosts to lay to rest for his clumsy words and so the A-desandian smuggler remained silent.

Fifteen minutes passed without words, without a sound.  Jan could hear other prisoners in the block and began wondering if Latti were here.  He checked left and right to see if any guards were around and whistled out a sound like a singing bird.  It was the regular call sign for the Zythlies crowd, one that alerted others to danger.  And Latti was one of the founder members of that group.  Jan tried the call again and got no reply.  Disappointed he stepped back from the bars of the cage and looked at Goah, gaunt and dishevelled, as beaten as he had ever seen him.  He gave a lopsided grin of encouragement and sat beside him on the bed.

   “Stupidest question I ever asked but are you alright?”

Goah didn’t look up but managed to give a slight smile and a dry chuckle.  Jan breathed out a laugh and nudged his friend with his shoulder.

    “Listen, whatever I say will be wrong, but there’s a bunch of things we’ve got to do.  Get out of here, find Latti, kill Terrov and blow this base to hell.  In that order, right?”  Goah didn’t answer, so Jan asked again.  “Right?”

   “Right.” He replied wearily. 

Jan looked up and rubbed his fingers together.

   “Okay, so getting out of here.  We need to…”

Then he heard it.  The birdsong he’d just sung was coming right back at him.  Goah noticed it too and looked up.

   “That’s no echo,” smiled Jan as he stepped to the bars again.  “That’s our Mister Tellex.”  He grinned at Goah who stood and joined him at the bars.  “Latti, where are you?”

   “Right here where they left me.” Came the reply.  Jan laughed with glee and winked down at Goah.

   “Told you we’d be alright.  Latt, we need a plan to get us out of here fast.  The whole mountain is loaded with Janos Jewel.”

Latti slapped his hands together, and Jan realised that he couldn’t have been shackled like he and Goah were.  Latti whistled through his teeth.

   “Darn, I knew it.  I followed a cargo carrier here on its way from Janos.  They’ve been bringing it here by the freighter load.”

   “And they’re mining it too, but enough about that, we need a way out.  Then you can give me the history story on the way back home.”

   “I’d be glad to.”   Latti paused a moment.  “Do you remember how we got out of that Hutt dungeon on Commodor a few years back?”

Jan nodded slowly as the memory came back to him.  Yeah, that might just work…

   “I do, and that’s a good idea.  These Whitecaps are twitchy enough to fall for that old one.  Go for it.”

Latti began to gather phlegm in his throat and stepped back from his bars.  He twirled his face braids for good luck and began coughing in the most horrendous manner, throwing himself on the floor and writhing in pain.  It sounded like a massif being choked and Jan almost wondered if his old friend was in genuine danger.  Only a few moments later three medical staff, dressed in local militia colours came running into the block, medical livery adorning their green scrubs.  Jan watched closely as they sped past and waited for the Stormtroopers familiar flash of white armour to follow, but it didn’t.  Jan turned and gave Goah an encouraging thumbs-up and waited.  He heard the door to the cell open and the frantic discussion of the medical staff, then a moment as their equipment was opened and then gasps of shock and the sound of three electrical discharges.  It sounded like three bodies slumping to the ground and the echo of footsteps running away.  Jan frowned.  If Latti had somehow managed to overpower three people surely he wouldn’t leave his two pals behind?  Then again, Janos Jewel residue could have a strange effect on some people.  Once the fine mist was inside some it would decay and go off inside them like a drug, blasting them into ecstasy and back in seconds, again and again.  Jan was certain Latti wasn’t one of them…

And had almost managed to convince himself that he was when the door to the cell and every other cell on the block opened and Latti ran around the corner with a grin on his face as wide as the side of a barn.  In his hand he held Jans blaster belt, sadly without the weapons, and an activation pad.  He depressed a button and everyone’s manacles unlatched and dropped to the floor.  Jan grabbed his friend in a hug and hustled Goah out of the cell as the other prisoners milled about, uncertain of which way to go.  Goah pointed down the corridor they had come, his natural sense of direction as sure as a compass.  Latti nodded and the three men began to break into a jog and then a run.

   “So where are we headed?” asked Latti as they picked up speed.  Jan looked down at Goah who gave no sign of reply.

   “The hell out of here before they get themselves together.”

   “We’re going after Terrov,” said Goah, almost too quietly to register.  Jan shook his head as they made a left turn. 

   “Goah, this hand basket’s just gone to hell.  Terrov’s not going anywhere, and if we don’t make like a tree neither will we.”

Goah suddenly slowed and grabbed Jan by the arm, slamming him hard against the wall and ramming his forearm up against his throat.  Jan was so surprised by the move he didn’t have time to make any defensive action and found himself gasping for breath.  And the look in Galletti’s eyes tol