《The Space Detriment》 0: The Wanderer (Prologue) Recording: Circa 4766 Dr. Danark Kerwinski Scientist, Retrovist, Adventurist I¡¯m Dr. Danark Kerwinski, and I have three words for you: The Big Bang. Well, technically it¡¯s the two-and-a-half, but you get my point. Or, you don¡¯t? Well, if you don¡¯t, then I¡¯m going to have to explain it to you, and that¡¯s what I do, as a scientist-cum-retrovist. I incentivise people who look out for the past, who don¡¯t try to tear it down, and most importantly, people who worship and protect it. These are the people we want to keep around, not those idiots who watch what is a new kind of sport on the galactic screens. Over a millennium ago, planet Earth died. That was The Big Bang. Or Next Big Bang. Or Second Big Bang. One of those alternatives. I¡¯m sorry, I just didn¡¯t want to sound grim or sound a little too over-the-top, but I reckon that if I started with the boring stuff, get it out of the way then we can leave some good stuff for later. Hooray?...! Anyway, as I was saying, planet Earth died, which I have now said twice. See, Earth was a fantastic planet, but like how atmosphere, human nature and circumstances change, things change along with it. More like out with new, in with the old! Oh wait, I¡¯ve got that wrong haven¡¯t I? Earth was a semi-good planet until the erosion and the corrosion and the toxicity of vile bad-habited people that disabled any life forms from ever taking place on there ever again. Thank goodness, we discovered interstellar travel. The bad news? Humankind survived. See, I¡¯m not in favour of our kind disappearing so fast, but something¡¯s got to win in the evolution of change, right? You don¡¯t see squirrels with handbags filled with acorns trying to dodge a large chunk of debri in the cockpit of a ship, would you? Squirrels died along with Earth in case you were trying to guess. In fact, most other life forms other than humans died along with Earth. That¡¯s the bad news, of course. I¡¯m sorry, I should¡¯ve treated you like a fully-formed adult and here I am, just babbling away like you¡¯re a fifteen-year-old infant. Anyway, this is the second time I¡¯ve used the word, humankind has found another way to live. We¡¯ve desecrated other planets, found ourselves a little spot in the galaxy, far away from most other floating rocks, and established our own empire. Again. We¡¯ve rebuilt, again. But, as always, like that really, really old song from almost three millenniums ago, everybody wants to rule the world. And those that did that couldn¡¯t quite handle everybody else, well, they simply left. Honestly, I would¡¯ve done the same if I was them. Why would you stay cooped up in a place you hate?! Wishing, wanting, waiting for the opportune moment to rise up and take action? You can leave! You can do just that! Of course, new leaders ventured everywhere like, as said from millenniums ago, bees searching for nectar in the galaxy. And when that happened, new leaders settled on new planets, established sectors and regions and respectfully deemed themselves a rightful king. Although, as we are still human at the core of it all, we know how to shake hands and strike a fruitful deal. And so, we elected leaders, who became kings, who became true to one another in a sea of stars that hopefully, one wouldn¡¯t crash a corvette into the other¡¯s trading post so as to exact revenge. This wasn¡¯t a joke, this really happened, in case you didn¡¯t know. And so-- hang on, I¡¯m losing some signal here. Some people are trying to buy some of my books, so I¡¯ve got to leave my documentation for now. In fact, if you would like to read about my book, The Collective Arguments of Leaders: Dead and Deader, then you should pick it up right now! It¡¯s available in all formats: flat screens, giant screens, your old and new gizmos, all of that fun stuff! Just try not to get yourselves killed. Catch ya¡¯ later, peeps. Recording: Circa 4767 Dr. Danark Kerwinski Scientist, Retrovist, Adventurist [REDACTED] Recording: Circa 4768 Dr. Danark Kerwinski Scientist, Retrovist, Adventurist [MUFFLED] ...This Elvis, really likes kicking up a bunch of dust don¡¯t he?... [MUFFLED] ...You kids!... Get off¡­ lawn! Recording: Circa 4771 Dr. Danark Kerwinski Scientist, Retrovist, Budding Gemologist I¡¯m Dr. Danark Kerwinski, and I have three words for you: I¡¯m the wanderer. Actually, it sort of goes on and on: they call me the wanderer, yeah the wanderer. Oh, it¡¯s getting embarrassing. After all, it¡¯s a song from three millenniums ago. No, different song, not everybody ruling the world this time. It¡¯s just the wanderer, and I love it. Anyway, this year had been rather hard to be both a scientist and a retrovist. I¡¯ve tried telling people to respect our culture, about not trying to cancel each other out because of topics they don¡¯t agree. You know what they did? They spat on me! With their saliva! Disgusting, putried saliva! I was both appalled and repelled by the fact that people would rather spit than swallow their disagreements! But, this year, I¡¯ve decided to reduce the time of listening to old music and watching useless telly and really, really go in hard on being a gemologist. I mean, really, there¡¯s just been a buttload of people who are going cloud cuckoo over this kind of stuff! Of course, gems have become rather a source of income for some people, and in fact, it had even become popular for batterium celebrities to endorse! Though, batterium celebrities are rather bad at playing their own sport, that¡¯s why they have to resort to making money elsewhere. It¡¯s kind of funny, how after our kind had split up time and time again over distinct differences, we can still gather around to watch a bunch of people playing sports in which they might die in. I guess somethings don¡¯t get old, do they? Oh, right, you don¡¯t know what¡¯s batterium. Honestly, I don¡¯t know what to tell ya! I myself don¡¯t even bother with that sport, or if it even is a sport, in which I don¡¯t consider it being one but labelled it one, which is confusing I know. All I know is that it¡¯s a team game, played with four players on each team, and there¡¯s two teams, and there¡¯s what seems to be a spiked ball or something, and they try to score it with their big hunk-a-chunk bots like metallic disasters. This is why there¡¯s inflation on metal resources! Idiots playing stupid games where the winners are companies who outsource miners to go and fetch them more metal! Anbyway, I¡¯ve gone off topic again. Where was I? Gems, oh yeah. Gems, as you see, have become somewhat of a household commodity. People know them. The old granny that lives across me in her little tiny space shuttle down the port? She knows it. She don¡¯t own one, she¡¯s not that bothered or rich, but she knows it. The young batterium player with their family down the other street? They probably own one, who knows, but you bet your fat dollar cheques that they will know it too! And maybe¡­ that¡¯s the problem! Unauthorized usage: this narrative is on Amazon without the author''s consent. Report any sightings. These gems, they are just so darn exquisite! You know what I think is gonna¡¯ happen? They¡¯re going to get stolen. And then, people are going to start auctioning off for them, and then? People are going to get rich! There would be no darn economy in space! Everybody who owns one of these will be rich now and be poor a few decades later! Stupid, stupid, stupid! But, either way, I¡¯m just probably a little, as the kids call it these days, salty over it. After all, I¡¯m a curator of one of these ¡®bad boys¡¯, and I can¡¯t wait until it charms the skirts off of the ladies down in the midnight bar! I¡¯m sorry if I haven¡¯t got much to say. It¡¯s just that these gems are getting everybody sent to cloud cuckoo land! This is Dr. Danark Kerwinski, singing out like a bad boy. Recording: Circa 4778 Dr. Danark Kerwinski Escapist Shit. Shit, shit, shit! Shit. I¡¯m on the run, but I¡¯m still Dr. Danark Kerwinski, except no longer geologist or scientist or even retrovist. I¡¯m nothing, but the truth of the matter is this: I¡¯ve got a bounty on my head. I¡¯m a dead man walking, like klaxon going off as soon as I hit in the radar of a hunter. I¡¯m a dead man walking. No, no no, I¡¯ve not run into debt. I¡¯m a scientist and a retrovist! People want my advice all the time! Why would I have a scourge of debt to run into? In fact, it¡¯s the opposite. My readers have all gotten the conceited idea that there are now people who roam the galaxy calling themselves as nothing more than ¡®hunters¡¯, who would hunt down bounties set by real people so that they can make a, excuse my pun, killing. Of course, I¡¯m not that stupid to lie back in my little space abode where the old granny from down the street still stay. I¡¯ve been long gone from that spot, and no hunter in the galaxy can catch me. I think. But listen, there¡¯s these bunch of pricks from earlier who¡¯ve been knocking down doors and trying to steal my shit. These people? Well, they can galaxy-ridden kill themselves! I¡¯m not going to let them just take away my prized possession of a little truth gem that can allow a victim to just speak! Why would I? In fact, I think I have it right here. [FUMBLING NOISE] Shit. [MORE FUMBLING] I swear, it was just right here¡­ [FUMBLING] Oh, shit! It¡¯s the galaxy-ridden dude! The dude from earlier! Oh my galaxy-ridden-- I¡¯m so screwed! [CRACKS AND SMACKS INTO METAL] Ouch! Recording: Circa 4788 Dr. Danark Kerwinski Escapist Shit. Shit, shit, shit! Shit. I¡¯m on the run, but I¡¯m still Dr. Danark Kerwinski, except no longer geologist or scientist or even retrovist. I¡¯m nothing, but the truth of the matter is this: I¡¯ve got a bounty on my head. I¡¯m a dead man walking, like klaxon going off as soon as I hit in the radar of a hunter. I¡¯m a dead man walking. No, no no, I¡¯ve not run into debt. I¡¯m a scientist and a retrovist! People want my advice all the time! Why would I have a scourge of debt to run into? In fact, it¡¯s the opposite. My readers have all gotten the conceited idea that there are now people who roam the galaxy calling themselves as nothing more than ¡®hunters¡¯, who would hunt down bounties set by real people so that they can make a, excuse my pun, killing. Of course, I¡¯m not that stupid to lie back in my little space abode where the old granny from down the street still stay. I¡¯ve been long gone from that spot, and no hunter in the galaxy can catch me. I think. But listen, there¡¯s these bunch of pricks from earlier who¡¯ve been knocking down doors and trying to steal my shit. These people? Well, they can galaxy-ridden kill themselves! I¡¯m not going to let them just take away my prized possession of a little truth gem that can allow a victim to just speak! Why would I? In fact, I think I have it right here. [FUMBLING NOISE] Shit. [MORE FUMBLING] I swear, it was just right here¡­ [FUMBLING] Oh, shit! It¡¯s the galaxy-ridden dude! The dude from earlier! Oh my galaxy-ridden-- I¡¯m so screwed! [CRACKS AND SMACKS INTO METAL] Ouch! Captured Recording: Circa 4790 [RUSHING FOOTSTEPS] Woman: Dr. Kerwinski! I am L What would you like to say for yourself after almost getting caught by a bounty hunter and a treasure seeker? [HURRIED FOOTSTEPS, TUGGING OF SLEEVES] Man: Sorry, no interviews. Woman: I¡¯m just going to ask him about the thoughts that he made from years ago. Man: Sorry, no comments. Woman: I deserve to go in there and ask him for a comment. You would deny me? I¡¯m a high-- [MUFFLED] [REDACTED] [SHUTTLE DOORS OPEN AND CLOSES] Woman: You¡¯re a galaxy-ridden prick! [WOMAN BEING HELD BACK] Man: I¡¯m sorry, I¡¯m just doing my job. Woman: All you galactic forces are just pricks. Pricks! [TAPE ENDS EARLY] Recording: Circa 4796 Official Prison Statement: Dr. Kerwinski [CROWD NOISE] [FOOTSTEPS] [CROWD STANDS] Man: This is the official statement for Dr. Danark Kerwinski. He is hereby sentenced for up to ten years for illegal use of the drugs Xyuke and Siemase, and will be held at the proper establishments that the Police Enforcers of the Galaxy-- Dr. Kerwinski: --Also known disrespectfully as PEG-- Man: --That the Police Enforcers of the Galaxy has set up for him. As for being a well-renowned scientist with years of dedicated research, Dr. Kerwinski¡¯s work will be carried on by other galaxy branches with information sharing official as of today. Dr. Kerwinski: You know you can¡¯t galaxy-ridden do that. That¡¯s my research! Man: Dr. Kerwinski will now be taken away from the stand. [MUFFLED] Dr. Kerwinski: It¡¯s all the¡­ with you folks. You all¡­ you deserve this?... You don¡¯t! [MUFFLED] Dr. Kerwinski: The space¡­ is just a stage. [MUFFLED] Dr. Kerwinski: The detriment is that we¡¯re all¡­ living in it! [HURRIED FOOTSTEPS, ZAPPING CUFFS IN PLACE] Man: Take him away. [FOOTSTEPS DOWN FLIGHT OF STEPS] [MUFFLED] Man #2: Sir, we¡¯ve got a problem. Man: What¡¯s the problem? [MUFFLED] Man: On Tetoid?... Roolboar?... [MUFFLED] [TAPE SNAPS] Recording: Circa 4804 PEG Prison [OLD RECORD PLAYER STARTS TO PLAY] Oh well, I''m the type of guy who will never settle down. Where pretty girls are, well you know that I''m around. [BACKGROUND: FOOTSTEPS] Woman: You Dr. Kerwinski? I kiss ''em and I love ''em cause to me they''re all the same. I hug ''em and I squeeze ''em; they don''t even know my name. They call me-- Man: They call me the wanderer¡­ [WEAPON UNSHEATHES] Woman: Consider this a service for you. Man: I roam around, around, around¡­ [BOLT FIRES] [BODY THUDS ON HARD CONCRETE GROUND] [KLAXON RINGS] [HURRIED FOOTSTEPS] Man: Oh, shit. Someone call for backup! [FOOTSTEPS LEAVING] And when she asks me which one I love the best. I tear open my shirt and I show her "Rosie" on my chest. [TAPE CLICKS SHUT] 01a: Purple Roses Aread Aread stepped in front of the system archway layered at the sides with wires like snakes crawling around each other. Okay, he thought. No panic. It¡¯s just a simulation. That means it¡¯s not real. He heaved a sigh, the kind of sigh that didn¡¯t matter if you were part of a plan or not. You¡¯re a big boy now. You do big boy things. This, right here, allows you to be bigger. Big boy is not enough. Bigger boy is. Aread checked his neck, his arms, his legs. Stiff. Yeah, you ain¡¯t been exercising in quite awhile. Need to get in shape before you go to see her. Aw, shit. Whatever. Time to do this. Aread rattled his fingers along the screen by the archway. Blue buttons popped up before being dashed away. ¡°Alright, so let¡¯s go through this,¡± he said out loud to Trinket, the Supercomputer Artificial Intelligence (SAI) that resided in the systems of his personal ship, Mifter. Aread had bought Mifter from a ship store on another planet almost two years, serving as a corvette and a current home also had tracking missiles that could be enabled at will and lightspeed travel, which in the current year all ships had at least some form of. With improved technology on board, Aread was able to fix himself up a new artificial intelligence that could hopefully tell jokes and tell time, but most importantly, to be everywhere. Trinket wasn¡¯t sufficiently in the bathroom, but that was the owner¡¯s decision, not the computer¡¯s. Trinket would also become Aread¡¯s one and only companion as he roamed the galaxy for sweet gems and crystals only to return home with buckets and buckets of credits. Hopefully. ¡°Sure,¡± Trinket said with a male robotic speaking voice. It felt like a neat thing for Aread to settle with, not having to conform to galactical political ideas about whether robots had genders or not or if they were just fluids. He was a ¡®never call robots by ¡®it¡¯ unless absolutely necessary¡¯ guy. ¡°Do you want to keep the default settings on? Like lights, the way you would move, so on?¡± Trinket asked. ¡°Yeah. Maybe mix it up a little. Just a smidge, so I don¡¯t notice that it is, you know, a?¡± ¡°?Simulation,¡± Trinket finished the sentence. ¡°Why, yes, of course,¡± Aread said. ¡°And don¡¯t interrupt me again.¡± Aread said, moving over to the side of the blackened room. He let out another sigh. Relax, you big idiot, he thought. Wait, you¡¯re not a big boy anymore. You¡¯re an idiot. Well, idiots have their capabilities too. They¡¯re just more well-known for their incapabilities. ¡°Turn it up,¡± Aread ordered and breathed in deep. ¡°Yes, sir.¡± Trinket did as told. The lights in the blackened room first brightened softly like an emerging sunset on the horizontal line. Lights flickered past him, growing out from the ground as if they were sprouts and crashing into one another as they flew. In a second, a sharp gaze of light shot out from one corner and scanned the entirety of the room as if it was parsing gene cells. What was once a regular-sized room in the confines of a space corvette transformed right before him into a glowing, big city with sprawling citizens and a scarlet-coloured sky. Aread tried to smell the city atmosphere, but his mind stopped him. It had something to do with a simulation of sorts that his mind wouldn¡¯t allow him to go there. Still, he thought, this whole simulation just never gets old. Aread walked forward, placing his feet over the other as he reached a shop selling old radio technology. He passed that by before reaching into the city square. Beside one of the passing travellers was a bright neon-sign that had been written in bold: ¡®WELCOME TO CALDERAC CITY SQUARE: HOME OF THE SCARLET PLANET!¡¯ Welcome home, me. It feels good to be back. The swaying branches and the thickets of bushes could barely be heard with the amount of people rushing forwards and backs, some carrying white suitcases made of metal from another planet, others riding in their little vehicles and such. Business on Calderac never stopped for a second. It was always fast, always changing, and for some reason, it just reminded Aread of what he wanted to be when he grew up: just like them. A businessman himself, selling whatever it was they carried in flat white suitcases and talking to people that were either important or very important. However, circumstances change and Aread knew full well why. The whizzing of large overhead space corvettes didn¡¯t stop either, and as the ships came and flew like portable glittering stars, Aread could tell that the music playing on his ship¡¯s sound system was repeating itself. Okay, that¡¯s not supposed to happen, but it doesn¡¯t take me out of the simulation. Yet. Aread had his sharp sapphire jacket, his short black cap to hide away his unkempt black hair, his rocket-powered boots and a walking style that was a dash of debonair and gallant. In truth, he couldn¡¯t be further away from being stylish or handsome, but courageous? Perhaps that¡¯s for his clients to decide. It¡¯s still a simulation. Aread could be anything he wanted. He could be at home. He could be rich. He could finally live the life he had been chasing for so long. ¡°Oh, sir, here are the roses,¡± Trinket said, forgetting what his owner had mentioned previously, and a boutique of red roses shimmered into place on Aread¡¯s right hand. So pretty. ¡°That¡¯s good,¡± Aread whispered. He wanted to keep this as real as he possibly could. Any misstep could mean bad things, and Aread had had enough with being associated with bad things. And so, he made the flowers real. He just didn¡¯t have them right here in the simulation. No point in getting it ruined. ¡°Ring in pocket,¡± he said to Trinket. ¡°Ring in pocket,¡± Trinket acknowledged. A faint blue cold essence swarmed into Aread¡¯s pockets, and now something was there, slightly heavier than he expected. That was a good thing. No bad things. No bad thoughts, he thought. He approached a lively Calderac market where men and women, many of them elderly, strided in with their whitecaps and white suits, some off to finish deals, others to go home and enjoy a cup of hot milk. In a simulation, things had to be real. Not just for the ¡®effects¡¯ and for the ¡®style¡¯, but they had to make sense. He wasn¡¯t going to treat this lightly because he was sure that there was no way he couldn¡¯t. ¡°She¡¯s on your left,¡± Trinket whispered suddenly. Aread turned a sharp left and there she was, in her eternal beauty and presence, all alone. ¡°Galaxy-ridden, Trinket!¡± Aread whisper-shouted, turning back and away, his face barely hiding the streak of red forming on his face. ¡°Don¡¯t tell me where she is, do you understand?! I¡¯m meant to figure this out on my own. This is a simulation, remember?¡± ¡°Yes, I do sir. But on our last recalculation, you said?¡± ¡°?Oh, you¡¯re pinning this on me now?!¡± ¡°No, sir, I was just merely pointing out?¡± ¡°?Shh, Trinket. I need to do what I need to do.¡± Aread narrowed his lips, then his eyes, and watched the young woman from afar intently. He paced forward, then back. His hands shivered in his pockets, fumbling about with the cold hard box in his pockets. Shit. Shit. Shit. ¡°Galaxy-ridden, Trinket! Now I can¡¯t do it!¡± Aread yelled out. Excuses, he thought to himself, but what a good excuse that is! Blaming it on the AI? That must¡¯ve been a first! ¡°I¡¯m so sorry, sir. Would you like a reset of the system?¡± Trinket asked. His tone was as melodramatic as a line that could neither go up nor down in a single wave. Aread had made Trinket on the fact that he could probably be in a space war and it would still sound as normal as he could. Aread inhaled deeply. No excuses. ¡°No,¡± he said, ¡°but just stop talking.¡± Aread placed one foot in front of the other again, and the other, and made his way forward with his heart beating faster than a family¡¯s in a ship that was sinking until the point of no return. ¡°Right, sir,¡± Trinket beeped suddenly. Aread stopped in his tracks. He had almost reached the girl. ¡°Now, what did I just galaxy-ridden say?¡± There was silence. Aread lifted one foot. ¡°Sorry, sir,¡± Trinket said. Galaxy-ridden¡­! ¡°How about this, Trink. I¡¯ll let you know when I need you. You don¡¯t have to say okay, you don¡¯t have to say right. Nothing. I¡¯ll just let you know, alright?¡± Aread said. Silence again. Right, dumbass. ¡°You can just say right once you acknowledge the message.¡± ¡°Right,¡± Trinket said. Aread nodded, then his eyes looked forward. Cold feet. Sharp eyes. Mouth with bated breath. You can do this, you stupid seeker. You¡¯ve got everything you need. You¡¯ve travelled the galaxy, you¡¯ve got the credits, and now you¡¯re back to live the life you wanted. You both wanted. There is no other time for this very moment. C¡¯mon, make it work. Aread strolled forward, and then, in a few short steps, he was there. But most importantly, she was there. And when she looked up at him and he didn¡¯t look away, there was a moment of disbelief, a moment of galaxy-ridden and whatnot, and Aread was sure that he hadn¡¯t placed the wrong shoe on the wrong foot, and? Shit, Aread thought. Their eyes met, and like the stuff of fairytales, he couldn¡¯t stop staring.If you spot this narrative on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation. Rosie Millorand. She still looked as pretty as ever with her sportive look that she wore so well. How her bright blue eyes burned with hopes and dreams, how her long chocolate-dipped hair brushed back to reveal the grace and the curves of her ear and the forms of her face. She had those smiles that could keep him watching for hours and hours. She had that laugh that would end up in the back of his mind when he went off on his seeker duties, and when he returned, he figured she was the only one he wanted to share his adventures with. ¡®I want to tell you everything!¡¯ Aread¡¯s lips read. ¡®You won¡¯t believe just what I¡¯ve just seen!¡¯ His eyes confessed. ¡®I finally realized that the future I was searching for never left home¡¯, his heart believed. Among her stellar features, what really captured Aread¡¯s unyielding attention was her black cashmere dress, coupled with a silver cloak above it all, fitting elegantly with her like nothing he had ever seen before. It didn¡¯t make sense for the seeker as he was absolutely defiant with his thoughts that he had seen her in a dress like that before, probably in a galaxy ball or something like that. As Aread stood still, a battle of thoughts engaged in his overstuffed mind. ¡®She looked like she hadn¡¯t aged¡­¡¯ ¡®Well, of course she hadn¡¯t galaxy-ridden aged! This is a simulation. This is, or was, what she looked like when you left Calderac, you idiot! Don¡¯t you remember?!¡¯ ¡®Oh, you do, don¡¯t you? That¡¯s why you¡¯re seeing the two-year-before Rosie, not the now-Rosie.¡¯ ¡°Hi,¡± Rosie greeted suddenly, revealing the whites of her teeth. Aread almost fell off his own standing feet, and he would¡¯ve if that was possible. ¡°Hi,¡± Aread said, revealing his own set of teeth that seemed to have reeked of burnt peas and other unlikely assorted food. ¡°What brings you here? wait, that¡¯s not the right thing to say. Erm,¡± he said, re-adjusting his posture and his tone as he stood face-to-face with the crush of his life. ¡°Didn¡¯t expect to see you here, Rose,¡± he said with a bright smile on his face. Rosie. Rose. Nicknames. Don¡¯t matter. Use them. It¡¯s an advantage. Rosie returned the smile. ¡°I could¡¯ve said the same, Ace,¡± she said. ¡°Last I heard about you, you were off on your own. Nobody knew where you went.¡± She started drifting towards the hectic marketplace like a girl that demanded to be followed. Aread followed her, of course, now side-by-side as they strolled along the Calderac space that had raised him as a kid. He just didn¡¯t know what caused the feeling. Was it being home? Was it being near Rosie? Either way, it felt undoubtedly good. ¡°Well, there were just certain things I had to do, you know? And besides, what does it matter? I¡¯m back, aren¡¯t I?¡± he explained. Rosie half-turned to look at Aread. ¡°So, you¡¯re not going to tell anybody why you¡¯re back, just like how you¡¯re not going to tell anybody why you left?¡± Sick burn. Cornstarch. What? Doesn¡¯t matter, swoon. Aread was young, he was ambitious. Being a seeker was on every young boy¡¯s mind, and that didn¡¯t exclude his. But being a seeker was also one of the only ways to get a future from a blistering thundercloud, or no one else was going to hand it to you. You either rode the electricity, or bust, and many have bust. Aread was the exception. ¡°I was going to tell you first, out of everybody,¡± he said, truthfully. ¡°And I would assume that it had something to do with me saying something a little explicit to you, didn¡¯t I?¡± she said. Aread cocked his head backwards, as if it was the first time he had been surprised in a long time. ¡°What? What explicit thing did you say?¡± ¡°I know you don¡¯t remember, and honestly, I¡¯m surprised that I even remembered.¡± ¡°You¡¯ve got to jog my memory, Rose.¡± Rosie sighed. Even in a short sigh she still looks like a ten. They stopped at a nearby flower stall. He could feel her face flushed with embarrassment. And then? ¡°Oh, right,¡± Aread said, perhaps believing that his bliss had overwritten the original thought in his head. ¡°Here¡¯s a bunch of flowers I picked up from a planet nearby. I think you¡¯ll like them.¡± You forgot?! You idiot! ¡°For me?¡± Rosie picked them up and the aroma wafted right to her. ¡°It¡¯s lovely.¡± Aread couldn¡¯t stop his cheeks from blushing, and so somehow, the two of them were on the same wavelength without actually ever being there. It felt like the old times all over again, playing out in his head except he was now actually participating in it. ¡°You were saying about the explicit thing¡­?¡± ¡°Explicit?¡± Rosie said, remembering the tangent she had left earlier. ¡°Well, it¡¯s a long story, but you¡¯ve got time?¡± Aread grinned. ¡°Sure.¡± Rosie smacked her lips together before beginning. ¡°It was my birthday, twentieth. A day before that, I had been out celebrating with the girls. With Alissa, Zeeyan, and then I just had a little too much to drink. You know how it is with girls, the celebrations. It¡¯s wild.¡± Aread paused to think. He wasn¡¯t sure if he knew about the girls nor the celebrations, nor with them put together, but he nodded sophisticatedly. She¡¯s going to say something like this, I just know it. ¡°Continue.¡± ¡°Right. Then one day, out of the blue, cause¡¯ mind you, you¡¯d already left. God knows where you went. Chasing tiny balloons? Chasing batterium on some other planet? Maybe some hot girl in the star galaxy had chosen you to be her prince and you tucked tail and ran?¡± ¡°Wrong, wrong, wrong, but I do like the idea that I was doing all of those things even though I was clearly not. And a hot girl? C¡¯mon.¡± Rosie sniggered. ¡°Anyway, you messaged me out of the blue, Ace. On my birthday. And you said you were coming back, and you didn¡¯t of course, but back then I thought you did, and I thought ¡®What fun it would be if I decided to play a prank on you?¡± Aread nodded, putting two and two together. ¡°And you played the prank which I now know.¡± ¡°And I thought that you didn¡¯t mind, and I thought it was funny!¡± ¡°You asked me a very specific question, Rose,¡± Aread said, leaning on one of the open ledges of the stall. He thought he looked cool and suave. It couldn¡¯t be further from the truth. ¡°I didn¡¯t know what to reply!¡± Rosie couldn¡¯t help but giggle with how their conversation had spiralled, and thinking about that moment. ¡°I shouldn¡¯t have sent that. I¡¯m so sorry. It was unfair, rude, and I felt like a unicorn.¡± Shit, she said it and it still feels so bizarre and weird and¡­ nice. ¡°Well, you kind of are,¡± he said. Rosie looked away for a moment. ¡°Anyway, I think you you remember about the little details and let¡¯s pretend to not talk about it anymore,¡± she said, her eyes floating around. Aread watched the girl of his dreams look back at him, and the simulation seemed to stop for a second. Continue or not, he finally realised why he had travelled over the galaxy, risked his life for broken shards and crystals that were found deep and entombed in some underground lair. It was for Rosie. The fact of the matter was simple. Aread had created a future, and his future would not be complete without Rosie. Truth or not, that was the way. He held in a deep breath, watched her eyes again, and reached deep into his pockets. Now is the time. I¡¯ve prepared for this. You¡¯ve prepared for this. I¡¯ve prepared for this. Now. Aread jingled the small box in his pockets. He offered himself all the motivations that he could think of. Go for it! You can do this! Don¡¯t give up! The last one did sound a little wrong. ¡°Rose,¡± Aread said. ¡°I¡¯m going to ask you?¡± ¡°Sir,¡± Trinket interrupted as the whole simulation blackened from a single bolt. Now, only warm white walls occupy the once Calderac exteriors. What. The. Shit. ¡°Are you galaxy-ridden kidding me?!¡± Aread yelled, swinging his fist up in the air. ¡°What is it now?!¡± ¡°I¡¯m sorry, sir, but you told me that when a client had called, I was to shut down everything, the simulation, music, movies among others so you could answer in peace. And to shut down the coffee machine too if you were using it. You mentioned the latter quite¡­ vehemently.¡± Aread planted a palm up to his face. Of all the times to call¡­ He walked over to a nearby screen that transmitted the call. . ¡°Pull it right up, Trink,¡± Aread said. ¡°And thanks for reminding about the coffee machine.¡± The screen wiped clean in an instant, first to black and then blurry images. Staring at Aread blankly with his face gently hidden under a sprawling hat was a large man behind a clean broad desk. Large, as Aread uncomfortably noticed, due to the fact that the camera had been placed too close to the man. ¡°Mr. Sears,¡± the man said, leaning back onto his chair with his arms folded. ¡°How nice to see you again.¡± ¡°I¡¯ve been waiting. What took you so long?¡± Aread said. ¡°I was caught in a predicament. But that is behind me now, and I¡¯m ready to make the deal,¡± the man said. ¡°Good. I was just waiting for you to call me. Not that it mattered, just letting you know.¡± ¡°Well, time waits for no one.¡± ¡°So, perhaps we should discuss about our meeting point?¡± Aread said. The man nodded his head. ¡°Before we do,¡± he said, ¡°I¡¯d like to make sure that you have your part of the deal we intended.¡± Aread scoffed. Is he joking? ¡°I¡¯m a seeker. If I don¡¯t live up to my words, my reputation¡¯s gone,¡± Aread explained. ¡°You can always change your name, change your face. The digital identity and imprint is just a game to see who could change the fastest,¡± the man refuted. The man did make a good point. In the galaxy, certain planets which didn¡¯t have as robust a system allowed for users to enter, change their imprints and walk out with a wholly new name and backstory to boot. Though, as Aread noted for himself, he wasn¡¯t going to find himself in the dumps to warrant him a trip to a place where they procure last resorts. ¡°I don¡¯t need to remind you that I¡¯m a reputable seeker, which I know I just did, but if you trust in me to get it done, then there¡¯s nothing to worry. A good seeker never disappoints, but a bad seeker would never have survived the same fate,¡± Aread said, hoping that his jumbled words would convince the man that he indeed had what the man wanted. Just show him the case. Show him the crystal. Show it to him, Aread thought. But, on the other hand, No, don¡¯t show it to him. What if he cons us of the credits? We¡¯ll walk away with nothing! The future is at stake here. What if he¡¯s spying me? What if he already knows my location? What if as soon as he saw the crystal he¡¯d blast me out of space so fast I won¡¯t even get to drink another cup of coffee? The man nodded inexplicably. It seemed that he just understood what Aread was saying. ¡°I¡¯ve detected a small piece of land not far away from where we met previously. It¡¯s just him, the owner, his land, his bar and sometimes, passing travellers. Place is Fresnic¡¯s Bar,¡± the man said. Aread swiped down below the screen to mute his side of the call. ¡°Trink,¡± he said, ¡°check Fresnic¡¯s Bar.¡± ¡°Already did, sir. Other than parking lots galore, a giant sign and some rough conditions for coffee brewing, the place is rather clean,¡± Trinket read from the results of his location scan. ¡°Thanks, Trink.¡± Aread unmuted the call. ¡°We¡¯ll meet at Fresnic¡¯s Bar, then. I¡¯ll see you in two hours. Until then, we won¡¯t call each other or make any surprises,¡± Aread said. ¡°Sure, seeker. Goodbye.¡± The video call of the man shrunk into the middle of the screen, returning to black, and Aread was with himself again. ¡°Sir, do you need me to run the simulation again?¡± Trinket asked. ¡°Galaxy-ridden, Trink! Now¡¯s not the time for the simulation!¡± Aread shouted at the screen in front of him. Though, he would like to go back in there again. Wouldn¡¯t it be great just to see Rosie one more time? Call her Rose? Have her call him Ace? Wouldn¡¯t it be nice? Excuses. Excuses again. ¡°Set a destination marker for Fresnic¡¯s Bar,¡± Aread ordered Trinket, deciding no. He stepped out of the simulation room and headed straight for the cockpit. ¡°And also, make me coffee.¡± ¡°Sir, I would like you to know that the sign in the kitchen is still there,¡± Trinket said, his volume a little softer than usual. ¡°The sign that stated: ¡®No coffee in the cockpit¡¯. It was written by you, sir. In big, bold letters.¡± Of galaxy-ridden course it was written by me. Great job, Ace! ¡°Give me a break, Trink,¡± Aread said, taking the seat to the right which was his favourite seat. The left seat was where he placed the coffee. There was something about the right seat that resonated with him, and since he had bought Mifter two years ago, that was always where he sat. He just didn¡¯t feel that two pilots were enough for spaceships. ¡°You said that there¡¯s coffee on the bar, right?¡± ¡°Yes, but the conditions?¡± ¡°Never mind,¡± Aread said, looking at all the buttons and levers and the shiny dashboard of his. ¡°The decision is made. I shall have coffee on the tiny slab of rock with a bar.¡± His hands roamed across the dashboard, flicking switches, turning on the lights and starting up Mifter¡¯s engines. Then he slipped his hands back into his pants pocket, and when the box wasn¡¯t there he jumped. ¡°Trink,¡± Aread said, concerned, ¡°where the hell is the box?! It was with me from earlier.¡± ¡°Sir, that was a simulation. The box never left its original position,¡± Trinket answered. ¡°Oh, really?¡± Thank God. Aread snapped open the side of the drawer of the dashboard, and inside, in a pristine, airtight glass box, was the ice ring. Not entirely round of ice, of course, but it did hold a precious ice gem in which the cracks of ice was allowed to flow and reform. It was the ice ring of the planet Cormascus. He had remembered it like it was yesterday. It was a simple job, and in the case of seeker schematics, it was a hit-and-run. Literally, as Aread remembered. A simple over-the-top dink, sliding into one of the big black gaping holes, tumbling around before shaking himself clean and getting back on track to finish the job, retrieving the valuable ice ring. Being the seeker with his own little ideals and dreams, Aread simply didn¡¯t give the dealer what he wanted with the ice ring. It was never sent, never given, and to this day, Aread was going to be using the ring for something else. It was the ice ring that Aread had seeked out to find, the ring that he was supposed to return, and the ring that he already knew what he was going to use it for. It was in the drawer all along, just as he knew but forgot, just as he hoped. The hour was coming along, and Aread was getting jittery. He just needed to close out one more deal. It was the final one, and it was coming all quick for him now. When this is all done, and this is all over, he could finally live his life back on Calderac, with his mom, his brother, and¡­ Rosie. Aread was getting ahead of himself, and he felt it. Nevertheless, he looked ahead into the blanket of stars and couldn¡¯t help but force a smile. ¡®Finally¡¯ used to be a pipe dream. Now, ¡®Finally¡¯ was coming home. And it was a matter of galaxy-ridden time. 01b: Purple Roses Klara Being a bounty hunter was hard work, but for Klara, being apart of the hunting circles only propelled her towards the target at the very top: Serro Crane. And everyone knew that in order to get to Serro, you¡¯d needed to go through a whole host of enemies. It was a rogue gallery, pick and choose, and Klara made sure that she was going to hurt Serro where it really hurt. First, with Bost Litnum. But she couldn¡¯t quite think of that right now. RUMBLE! A large container rumbled down the hallway, like a giant boulder carrying infinite moss as it headed its way towards the hunter. Klara ran as fast and as far as he could, leaping over cabinets, over tables, and turning away to run down another hallway. But behind her, the galaxy-ridden container chased her like a slow hyena. When she made a quick turn, she saw something that could get her out of this ridiculous situation. Klara leapt off the side panel and skidded down into the gaping metal hole ahead of her, spiralling down towards the never-ending darkness. She stayed calm. Years of hunting high-profile targets and being able to put them on the hook had trained the young bounty hunter to be able to adapt to her surroundings. She wasn¡¯t the best, but she strived to be. This was no different. As Klara slid down into the depths of black faster and faster, she tried her best to formulate a plan. First, galaxy-ridden container¡¯s going to crush me. I¡¯m not going to come out looking like a detestable meatball. Not my style. Secondly, I¡¯ve got to use my brain here. Klara whipped out her trusty hook-gun. Or simply just use venge. The trusty hook-gun seemed like a normal, all-servicing revolver with an extra claw hook stuck at the very top of it. The truth is that it is far from what it seemed. Venge, as Klara called it, is able to fire off repulsor shots that upon impact send enemies flying like a bale of turtles across an empty bridge. There are a total three switches on venge: the irritation lock, the rage lock, and one more button to enable venge¡¯s claw-hook. The irritation lock and rage locks are how strong the repulsor shots would be. For now, Klara always stuck to ¡®irritation¡¯. The claw-hook is able to be fired separately from the revolver, digging into places unseen and allow Klara to be gravitated towards it, or send the claw right back to where it belonged. A weapon like this allowed the right bounty hunter to traverse inner buildings by making short work of staircases, and making boarding of ships so much easier. While Klara was trained in a shotguns, rifles and snipers, she wasn¡¯t that good with a pistol, much less a revolver. She had time to learn the gun, and it took almost sixteen months for her to be prolific in the weapon. Pretty soon, venge became the only thing Klara used on missions. And if Klara took out her trusty claw-gun, she already knew what she was going to do. JAG! The claw flew and impaled deeply into a nearby wall. Klara could barely hold tight onto the handle as she slammed right into the titanium wall. Shit, she thought. All this metal infrastructure¡­ what¡¯s the galaxy-ridden point?! It just makes it easier to just do so much more-- Klara looked below. A shadow emerged. It got bigger, and bigger, and bigger. What?... It had seemed that the container also had an idea to climb down into the lower vents. The problem was that the container was coming straight at Klara. Shit! Klara looked back down. She was nearer to the ground, and had to make a decision fast. She gritted her teeth, and got to work. SNAP! Klara pushed down on the button on venge, and found herself flying back up. Did I just make the wrong move? Shit shit shit. She twisted herself, stretching thin, flying up and? SLIIIIDEEE! Klara released all her breath at once, pushing herself up against the wall in the tiny gap, barely scraping through the container as it barely brushed up against her and fell all the way down to the metal grounds. SNAP! Klara¡¯s handle re-attached itself back to the claw. It was a close call, as Klara figured, but in her career of catching targets and skipping through death traps, this wasn¡¯t even a fairly close call. The container CRASHED! as it slammed straight into the metallic floors. The danger was gone, for now. Klara pushed the claw out from the wall and landed down into the vents below. Her eyes looking around for any other stragglers that may have been around. On top, where Klara had leapt off from, a figure emerged to block the light. ¡°Thorn!¡± a female voice called out from above. ¡°Are you okay?¡± The figure was back-lit but Klara could see the silver uniform, a silver gantlet and ever-flowing hair. She had recognised that to be her ally, Czyrian. ¡°Yeah!¡± Klara shouted out. Or, rather, Purple Thorn did. ¡°I¡¯ll head down this way,¡± Czyrian shouted. ¡°We can surprise him if we split up!¡± Klara nodded her head. ¡°That¡¯s a good idea,¡± she shouted back, and began sprinting along the dimly lit hallway. Purple Thorn, at first with an initial ¡®The¡¯ before dropping it, had become somewhat of an alter-ego for Klara. This wasn¡¯t to say that she was now absolved with all the blame of what made a bounty hunter professional in the sense of the word, but if it weren¡¯t for being two people at once, one made-up, then there was no way she would be risking herself to fight off her enemies, and eventually the one atop the tomb of evil. For others around the galaxy, Purple Thorn was a myth. Probably conjured up by a religious man who took the occult too seriously, or perhaps it just became a space joke to have Purple Thorn inserted everywhere. For Klara, it was a form of identity. It was the way she lived, the way she fought, the way she was known to the galaxy. And no better way to introduce yourself as an assassin to the galaxy¡¯s biggest juggernaut: Serro Crane. Or in the case of the mission, to Serro¡¯s right-hand man, Bose Litnum. The galaxy had been split apart into separate regions, such as Scarlet Skies and Verditer Lands, just to name a few. Serro was one of the biggest conquerors of the Verditer Lands. He had taken the mantle from his dying father, sat on the throne that made him immediate king, and displaced his superiors with those he trusted. From then, he was an unstoppable force, moving from one planet to the next, taking their reigns as people bowed to him, worshipped him and sang his name even in space shuttles and tiny homes. Klara shuddered at the thought. He needed to die, Klara thought, and that was what she was here to do. She had infiltrated Dieragon, one of Bose Litnum¡¯s trusty ship, but it wasn¡¯t easy. Bose wasn¡¯t just Serro¡¯s right-hand man and trusty advisor, he was also a gem connoisseur and was used to travelling the galaxy to market his ¡®gem conventions¡¯. Of course, this meant his ship would have to have been protected by either the most powerful people, or some of the most powerful people. And yet, she had so easily snuck in and gotten through most detections. How is this possible? Klara had thought earlier when she had rappelled down the vents. How had a right-hand man to the galaxy¡¯s most incredulous titan not have enough protection to surround himself with? Klara¡¯s operation to infiltrate Dieragon was easy. First, she had boarded Czyrian¡¯s ship, a tiny little scout ship that looked similar to the escape ships on Dieragon. Secondly, the guards on patrol were also lesser than she had imagined. Since entering the ship¡¯s vents a half-hour ago, she had only encountered about what seemed to be a dozen or-so guards. That was weird. Klara chalked it up to a number of reasons, one being that Dieragon was also a cargo ship. It is a host to a many gems and crystals, and even magical stones. Being the gem connoisseur Bose was, Klara could hardly see why a man would even need that man gems and crystals. Most of the shinies were kept in the ship¡¯s hull, and due to its twisted shape, some sort of a ring attached to another ring, it disallowed blithering, a term more commonly known around seekers than hunters. All Klara knew about the term was that if a gem was to be blithered, it would activate the powers harnessing inside a tiny stone, possibly letting loose hell that would be unfathomable. Fortunately for the hunter, she wasn¡¯t very much in dodgy stones and stupid pebbles. She was here for the man behind them, so that she could acquire information which will lead her to Serro Crane. Still, she wasn¡¯t so sure why Dieragon was so easily infiltrated. If Bose was indeed Serro¡¯s right-hand man, shouldn¡¯t he be a much more protected target? Either way, Klara wasn¡¯t complaining. She just needed to get to Bose, and that was the most important thing. Klara lifted her head up at the lights above from where she was, pacing herself well so that she wouldn¡¯t resort to using too much stamina. Up above was where all the main rooms were, and where she was sure Bose would be. Down here, where she fell, was where the basement lines connected. She moved towards the walls and placed her hands onto the wires. This was a trick that she learned. Most of the gems got shipped and carried down here, in tiny tunnels that funneled away to factories and storage facilities and kept the stones cold for another day. If she could track the sound or the physical contact within the walls, she would be able to follow it, bringing her closer to Bose or to something that she could use as a way to get Bose to talk. After all, a seeker¡¯s main reason for crying is losing a gem that would be worth thousands and thousands of credits. It was a probable plan, but Klara was already thinking of the ¡®after¡¯. After getting to Bose, after getting the information. After that, I¡¯ll kill him. Probably, Klara thought. If she was going to leave behind a marker for Serro, killing Bose would be the perfect opportunity to get him to notice her. But that would set me back. That would put me in the crosshairs of Serro. Too early and it would cost me. Too late and he would have the power to conquer planets. Disgusting. It was a tough choice. Klara had followed Serro Crane since the beginning, since he had started ruling Tetoid, the planet Klara was from, and was in a way the creator of her now known alias: Purple Thorn. She was, after all, part of Incident Roolboar from almost ten years ago. That event had left a scar like no other, and for some as hardened as Klara was, she would never allow herself to speak of it, much less think about it. When Klara had reached the next room, she found herself surrounded by screens that showcased monitor feeds that examined into the nitty gritties of the entire ship. Even the tiniest rooms like a janitor¡¯s store room had contained a spy camera, and that was both great and extremely worrying. This was bad for a lot of obvious reasons, but for Klara, when she had managed to find a camera and a figure in a silver uniform dash across the screen, she knew that she was on the right track. The figure, known as Czyrian Myss, was a hunter that Klara had very much admired. They had both come from the same academy, trained with each other on what a bounty hunter should do, the adaptability of the situations, and had become good friends through camaraderie and wanting to change the galaxy for the better. Klara had noticed her will to carve out her own destiny and it deeply resonated with her. But most importantly, it was their same ideals to rid the galaxy of Serro¡¯s footprints that eventually brought them together on this quest. Without Czyrian, Klara¡¯s hands would have been tied behind her back and her chances shot. Now, she had a companion that she could count on, and she was going to look forward and never back. Klara placed a finger on her right ear to where the mobile comms, comms for short, were. The comms enabled her to speak to anybody on the same feedback as her which was Czyrian. ¡°Czyrian,¡± Klara said as she watched her partner move from screen to screen, trying closely to follow her steps. ¡°I believe I¡¯m in the surveillance room. I can see everything.¡± ¡°What? Down there?¡± Czyrian said, stopping in her tracks. Shit, Klara thought to herself as a few troopers began running down the hallway that was next to Czyrian¡¯s. ¡°Troopers, just ahead of you, coming down your side,¡± Klara notified her partner immediately. ¡°Back up to the wall.¡± ¡°Got it,¡± Czyrian replied, immediately pulling her entire body away to the wall. She backed away to a wall as the troopers carrying pulse rifles began to shuffle her by, not noticing she was there. In the dark, nobody could see nobody, but Klara was the all-seeing eye. ¡°You¡¯re good to go,¡± Klara said as soon as the guards disappeared from the camera feed. ¡°Where is Bose?¡± Czyrian asked, ducking out from behind the wall. Support the creativity of authors by visiting Royal Road for this novel and more. ¡°I¡¯m locating him.¡± Klara shifted her eyes through every screen possible, sometimes looking back at them twice to make sure she hadn¡¯t missed a drop of detail. On one of the screens which were placed much higher than others, she found him. Black top hat, a sleek black suit and an unforgettable lucid look, there he was: Bose Litnum. The scrawny man was dressed for an occasion, and Klara was ready to spoil his tinpot party. He must be heading for a trade or a convention, Klara thought. But he¡¯s so close. No more slips this time. ¡°He¡¯s down six rooms from you, straight all the way. He¡¯s about to leave,¡± Klara said. ¡°This direction?¡± Czyrian asked, pointing her fingers forward knowing that she could see her. Though, Klara did admit on the screens she looked like a little fool. ¡°Yes, just keep heading straight. You¡¯ll run past the storage room filled with shinies, and up ahead, you¡¯ll meet a patrol of guards.¡± ¡°How many?¡± ¡°I¡¯m seeing five.¡± ¡°Alright, that¡¯s a battle I can tattle with.¡± Up above, Czyrian¡¯s rattle and thumping of heavy footsteps took Klara¡¯s notice. She¡¯s just up there. Then it clicked in her head, and she started running off on her own. ¡°I can get them off of you,¡± Klara said as she tried to follow the sounds of the running footsteps above. ¡°It should give you enough time to go up ahead and get to Bose before he leaves.¡± Bose was on his way to his tiny escape pod, Little Numb, but as the name suggests, it wasn¡¯t all that tiny. In fact, it was a cruise ship and a speeder rolled into one. It was small, gentle, not to mention also fast, and capable of flying under the radar of warships for a few minutes without being detected. Though, those who have stalked Bose have also claimed that Little Numb could go under radar for as long as a full hour. In the eyes of a seeker and a hunter, hours were impeccably long for a ship the size of Little Numb. If Klara, or in this case Czyrian, couldn¡¯t catch up to Bose then her efforts in the last half-year or so would have been thrown down into the drain. Bose seemed impenetrable, always escaping at the slightest chance, and she couldn¡¯t let that happen again. This time, with a partner available, there was no way they were letting Bose off the hook that easily. Still, Klara figured that there was just something amiss with the whole thing. Bose seemed¡­ too easy to capture now. ¡°Where was it you said?¡± Czyrian said through the comms. ¡°Straight ahead?¡± Klara followed underneath Czyrian¡¯s footsteps. ¡°Yeah, straight ahead.¡± She dashed forward a little more, and when she heard the thudding sounds of heavier footsteps, she looked straight up. She pulled on her large purple cloak that acted as both disguise and armor, tapped onto the Tetoid gem slung around her neck as it brimmed a bright profound purple. She unsheathed venge and pointed it right up to the floors above. With a pull of the trigger, the claw shot forward and embedded itself onto the other side of the metallic floors. Now, she was ready. Klara jammed her finger into the button, sending her flying high up and preparing her posture as she landed into the ceiling. AND¡­ SMASH! Klara burst through from below the floors like a kraken, throwing the guards off their footing as the bounty hunter spun with grace in the air. She immediately placed the claw right back to venge, acting as both a long-range killer and a close-range bayonet and primed her targets on the guards. Five, she saw immediately, and five will fall! Klara dragged herself forward, heading first straight for the leader. She lead with a punch across the face, a right-hook to his neck and fore a sweeping kick to lift the guard¡¯s feet off the ground. Flinging the rifle off his arm, the leader hit face-first right onto the metallic floor. SLAM! Alright. Now, it was the two guards behind the fallen one. Before any of the two could bring up their rifles to fire, Klara¡¯s alter-ego, Purple Thorn, struck first. As is tradition. She slid her knees forward, bringing out a dagger from her tiny pocket located on her knee. As she slid, it gave her the opportunity and the speed to stick the claw into the knees of one of the guards, and her dagger-wielding hand did the same to the other. As she got up from the other end, she thrusted her elbows into the back of their heads and trained her eyes on the remaining guards. SLICE! SLAM! BANG-BANG! ¡°Shit!¡± One of the remaining guards yelled as their comrades dropped to the floor like bullet shells. They turned and ran for their lives, letting their feet bounce up but it didn¡¯t seem to be enough. Not on my watch. Klara angled venge to the wall. With her targets acquired, she pulled the trigger on the claw, lining up against the wall before bouncing and slicing across their legs. SPLICE SPLICE! The remaining guards dropped to the floor like their fallen comrades. The claw that had been spinning forward spun a full arc before jamming right back into place of the handle. Making sure that they don¡¯t come back to haunt her, Klara walked forward with two fists, and landed them directly into the back of the guard¡¯s heads. That should be enough. There was a sigh from Klara, not because it was done, but because it was just not worth that much. Guards these days are only trained and paid to do one thing, and most of them are incapable of even doing the simplest of things. It would make sense for Bose to have guards on his ship considering the fortunes of gems and crystals he hoarded, but it seemed as though the guards were just not expecting any sort of attack, much less an attack from Purple Thorn. Or were there just not enough guards in the first place? Klara had wondered, upon the facilities of Dieragon, surely Bose would be wise enough to afford more guards? Whatever. I¡¯m almost onto him. From behind her, Czyrian caught up. She was visibly awed by the display of action, and also slightly disappointed that she didn¡¯t at least have a bite of the cherry. ¡°C¡¯mon,¡± Klara said. ¡°He¡¯s just up ahead.¡± Czyrian nodded, and both hunters took off at incredible speed. Klara heard more footsteps approaching her on the right, but now was not the time to lose focus, or to lose momentum with the target in sight. Now was about catching up to Bose, and then catching him. Catching Bose would mean nothing on another hunter¡¯s kill score or point system, but for Klara, she was spearing for bigger fish, which she has to go through the little one to get to. In front of them, a sealed door had begun closing real fast. ¡°Just like what the academy taught us,¡± Czyrian said, trying to keep up with her running breath. ¡°To think you still remember,¡± Klara said, trying not to. ¡°We¡¯re going to have slide through it.¡± ¡°No galaxy-ridden shit.¡± As they neared the closing door, it had begun to close on them much faster. Galaxy-ridden, Klara thought. Are we going to make it? ¡°We¡¯re going to have to try,¡± Klara said, as they reached nearer. Their hearts pounded and their legs stretched. And just before they reached the door, their bodies came straight down onto the floor. SKID! Klara and Czyrian barely got through as the door almost clipped onto Klara¡¯s large cloak. That didn¡¯t happen often, the clipping of shirts or cloaks or any of that, but she figured that taking chances like that ended up in suicide, or not catching Bose, which in her eyes, the latter was definitely worse. When Klara reached the end of the hall, she had reached the storage room that she had told Czyrian about. In one of the other storage rooms, cracked open in the way that a hunter would: with no evidence of a clean break, with shotgun pelts embedded into the thick walls, and with no idea of how to leave the lack of trail like a clear-thinking seeker. The door had been blasted onto the ground, the gems in the room robbed, and in the puff of thick smoke, there was no trace of Bose. Shit. Shit shit shit. Shit! ¡°He¡¯s near the end!¡± Klara yelled and continued running. ¡°Hold up!¡± Czyrian shouted from behind. Klara couldn¡¯t quite pick up Czyrian¡¯s words, but in her mind, she knew what she wanted. As Klara ran up ahead, she had reached the room filled with escape pods. Her eyes searched everywhere for any signs of Bose, or any sign of his men, but there was nothing. Panting as she entered into the room, Czyrian placed her hand on her knees. ¡°Where is he?!¡± Klara shouted, looking up and into the escape pods. There¡¯s no way he escaped. No way. ¡°What if he¡¯s in the other dock?¡± Czyrian said. It was a possibility, too. No, no, no. ¡°No,¡± she said. ¡°I know him. Little Numb has got to be here!¡± ZAP-ZAP! From behind, shots began firing. Klara and Czyrian immediately ducked for cover right behind a lowered wall. It seemed that the backup patrol, late on all accounts, had arrived. Shit. ¡°There¡¯s no way we¡¯re getting back out there!¡± Czyrian yelled to Klara as she pulled out a plasma pistol and began at the guards behind them. In the thick air of lasers, it was hard to even notice what the hell was happening. ¡°Bose is still out there! We can¡¯t come so far just to give up! We¡¯ll be worthless!¡± Klara yelled back, struggling to place a shot with her claw at the guards behind her. Can¡¯t get a galaxy-ridden hit on them! ¡°Is it worth risking your life to get an information to the big man?!¡± ¡°Of course is it! If it isn¡¯t I would¡¯ve stopped years ago!¡± ¡°But you¡¯ll die before you get to Serro, do you understand?!¡± Of course I do, of course I¡¯m going to do whatever it takes to get to him. But the only way is through Bose. If I can¡¯t even do that, then I¡¯ve truly failed. From outside one of the windows of Dieragon, Klara could see the shape of a familiar ship preparing to take off. Little Numb. The size of Little Numb, the impeccable red stripes and blue engravings that clearly marked out Verditer Land symbols, there was nothing else to provide proof that it wasn¡¯t Little Numb that Klara was seeing. ¡°I see his ship!¡± Klara shouted as she switched from cover to cover as soon as the guards readied to reload. ¡°We need to get into the escape pods right now!¡± ¡°You go,¡± Czyrian said, shaking her head. ¡°I can¡¯t. I¡¯ll hold them back for you while you get in it.¡± What? What galaxy-ridden hell was she saying? ¡°We¡¯re going together. What do you mean you¡¯ll hold them back?¡± she asked, her eyes flipping between Czyrian, the guards and Little Numb. I hate situations like these. Even if I were to adapt properly, adjustments will still cling onto me like little droids. ¡°There¡¯s three pods left, you¡¯ll get in one of them as I hold them off, and if it¡¯s up to me, I¡¯ll do the same,¡± Czyrian suggested. It was a plan, yes, but not a plan Klara was in favour of. ¡°We need to stay together, take down Bose and Serro together, do you understand?¡± ¡°They¡¯re finalising their reloads. If you want to catch him, then you best be getting on the galaxy-ridden pod.¡± Shit, Klara thought. Czyrian was right. Klara half-turned to one of the ships, and then back to her partner. ¡°Make sure you get on it, do you understand?¡± Czyrian nodded. ¡°Now go! I¡¯ll take care of these shitheads!¡± Klara breathed in deep. Then she took the leap of faith. She whipped out venge, and with a trained eye, shot the claw at the nearest escape ship she could catch her eye on. The burst rifles began firing at all areas, and she was sure that Czyrian would do her best to keep her partner out of the line of fire. Just the tiniest pin drop of sound meant that the guards had to act on instinct as they were not able to get an eye onto the escaping hunter. As soon as the gunfire stopped, and the guards reloaded their rifles, Klara took the opportunity given. She pressed on the other button located on the handle, finding herself speeding along the floor with her padded shin on the ground. This time, she was controlling the momentum, the force and the way she moved. The harder she pressed down on the button, the quicker it would be for the handle to reconnect with the claw. Even with years of practise, she never could quite perfect the whole process. For now, it was the perfect way for her to get out of a galaxy-ridden situation. Klara jammed her fist into the side of the ship as soon as she entered into the pod, closing up the doors. She watched Czyrian with solemn eyes. The firing was fast, hard and unrelenting. I¡¯m a piece of shit, Klara said to herself. I¡¯m going to chase Bose and let my friend stay behind to cover for me? I¡¯m really a piece of shit. Klara shook her head. No, now is not the time to fathom about what could have gone wrong. I¡¯m still on the right path, and that¡¯s all it matters. With another punch on the buttons inside the ship, the doors slid shut. The process of un-docking a ship was always the same. First, you begin the engines, unhinged the braces, throttle the jet and the rear engines and then bam! The ship would be undocked. As a non-pilot, it was one of the hardest things in the world. Thankfully, Klara was a capable pilot, but capable would also be an understatement. In the world of hunter pilots, she was one of the worst. While she could get from place to place alright, she was never able to arrive on time. She never practised this area of her craft. After all, she never owned a ship, and being able to count on your feet in the nastiest situations were what separated life and death, not whether you can tap your feet to laser beam sounds in the cockpit. With a calm head, Klara managed to extract the ship from Dieragon. She let herself breathe, but the thoughts still swirled. Czyrian is a capable hunter, she thought. She¡¯ll definitely get out. She will. I have trust. Before her, Little Numb began to fly like a phoenix risen from the ashes. The ship was mighty even in dismal size, and perhaps it was only something that Serro and his right-hand man can do. There¡¯s the signal right there. Klara pushed up on the engines and the speed increased. She locked her target to Bose¡¯s ship. She was not going to let him get away, and if all was well, she¡¯ll have Czyrian back before she even knew it, fighting alongside together as they extracted the information to Serro and take down the mad conqueror. Of course, it wouldn¡¯t be easy, and of course, she¡¯s not taking anything for granted. She¡¯s made hard choices before, choices that needed a heart stronger than most, choices that only someone like her could make. And she didn¡¯t make most of the choices. Now was the chance for her to right the wrong, for her to finish what she started. There was no lingering thought that could stop her. She trusted in Czyrian¡¯s ability to get away and find her soon, and so she left that out of her thoughts. Klara was going to make sure that her aim was always Bose first, and then Serro, and whatever stood in the way, whether it was a bunch of guards or an incinerated door, it would mean nothing. Maybe Klara would flake a little, maybe she would crumble. But not Purple Thorn. Not the galaxy-known assassin. She pushed up on the engines, flying right behind Little Numb as the blinking lights of that ship began to speed away from her. No more, she thought. I¡¯m going to get you once and for all. ¡°Warning,¡± the ship¡¯s artificial intelligence responded as Klara barely got the ship flying steadily. ¡°Ship running low on fuel.¡± ¡°What?!¡± Klara yelled out from the cockpit. ¡°You must be kidding me!¡± Purple Thorn wouldn¡¯t fly a ship that was low on fuel, would she? Klara played around with the buttons on the dashboard, trying to get a feel before she crashed into a nearby planet or just a big slab of meteor. ¡°How far will this amount of fuel take me?¡± She asked. ¡°I¡¯m sorry, I can¡¯t answer that question. Fuel low. Fuel low,¡± the AI said. Klara sighed. She continued to watch Little Numb as it flew further and further away, but still she watched with great intent. Screw you, escape pod, Klara thought. This is why I galaxy-ridden hate ships. 02a: Miracles from Thorns Aread Aread was a little early at the spot that he and the trader had connected to meet up. So early that he¡¯d broken his coffee rule, at the expense of his own volition, and again wrote up a new sign that said: ¡°To all rules that have come before, this new one replaces everything now: PLEASE STOP DRINKING COFFEE IN THE COCKPIT. Thanks.¡± Aread loved it. The idea of coffee in the cockpit and being at odds with himself over something so simple and digestible felt worthwhile for him. It was a rare oversight to be both negotiator and defender on a certain ideal, but Aread was a big boy now, and big boys deal with certain situations in a bolder sense. Like, what exactly to do when you arrive early at a trading point and do people still drink coffee in space? Of course they do. Coffee¡¯s good. Being a sophisticated seeker and priding himself as one of the best in his occupation was the only way forward. How else do you ever become the best at something if you never think of yourself as becoming good at that one thing? At the age of 18, Aread already had that idea. But two years ago Aread wouldn¡¯t be stupid enough to go alone down to where a tiny slab of meteor rock drifting into space with just a tiny little establishment. He could be that stupid, but he certainly won¡¯t risk it. So, what to do now? Aread asked himself. A million things popped up like a cascade, splashing up like a towering tsunami. He wasn¡¯t sure which one to listen to, and he had time to spare, so Aread entertained some of them. Getting to all of them would pool the entire life essence out of him which is something he knows cannot be replaced. There was always a priority to how Aread thought. Someone at the very top, and then everything else slowly goes underneath it. Rosie. This was a no-brainer. What''s she doing now? Is she happy? Is she still invested in trying to make a future for herself so that she and her family could live together peacefully? Make earning credits a forgone conclusion? Perhaps she decided that the future she yearned was nothing but a pipe dream that was attached as seamlessly as it was quickly, and that was the wrong thing? What if¡­ what if Rosie had already found ¡®the one¡¯? Aread leaped up from his seat as if a scorpion had attacked his butt, his hand still tugged at the mug of coffee. He was not entitled to spill that, but that was a scary thought he just had. What if it was true? What if Aread¡¯s long absence from seeing her and her seeing him meant that she had found someone else in this big, big galaxy? What if she was already married? With three beautiful kids? Two boys, one younger girl that carried the traits of their mother? What if she named them Aston, Breta and Luna? What if they grow up and never become a hunter or a seeker? What if her future is none of your business? Oh shit. Aread was in the dark place. It happened more often than he thought, coming back to it again and again, like a tape recorder than had spun out of control and needed to be fixed. But what¡¯s the difference when it was always going to spin out of control again? He needed to think about something else, not this mess or whatever it was. ¡°Trink,¡± Aread said, plopping back down onto the seat. ¡°Make me another mug of coffee.¡± ¡°Sir, regarding the sign-¡± ¡°Ah, galaxy-ridden!¡± Aread threw a fist up in the air. Though, not with the hand holding the coffee. ¡°Ignore that sign, and do what I just told you. Coffee. Thanks.¡± Trinket beeped into the system¡¯s speakers. ¡°Another mug of coffee coming right up, sir.¡± That¡¯s right, Aread thought. That was right. All these thoughts can go on a suicide mission. And never come back. Which is why they¡¯re going on a suicide mission. They¡¯re not coming -- alright, I¡¯m losing track of everything. Aread wasn¡¯t going to let himself get consumed by these thoughts. Not before a mission, not after and definitely not during. But these thoughts come and go, like another cascade with feet baked upon by the eternal sun. These thoughts don¡¯t usually trespass often, but when they do, they are a lingering sensation that only mutual emotionalists could feel and understand. So far, the people that he¡¯s met have comprised of buffet eaters, gem throwers and very less emotionalists. In some way, that was good. It was a fascinating insight to Aread¡¯s own mind that made him unique, and perhaps shook the friendship he had with Rosie. Did it perhaps compromise the future of our relationship? Was I just too soft-spoken when I was with her? What if she never liked me? What if speaking to me was just entertainment? What if she got married to Jet Cadence?! Galaxy-ridden, Aread! Get it together! Aread couldn¡¯t help it. The only way to get it off his mind it seemed was to get to work, hopelessly and helplessly, and somehow he knew it. He got off his chair and waded his way towards the big glowing green bag that had been placed by the side. After all, he was a seeker with a deal to deliver. Checking to ensure that the goods he was meant to deliver were there was just the least he could do. Aread wasn¡¯t the kind to be betting on which item was just more special than another, only on one exception, otherwise he was like everyone else in this darn galaxy: do your job, get your due credits, and move the hell on. That was the honest truth. As he opened up the bag of treasures, Aread was sure that his recent trip to Dartonia, Dread King¡¯s personal travelling corvette slash living space slash personal prison slash working space, would eventually put him on a list somewhere. Not the kind of lists where they give out presents or anything like that, but the kind of lists that would make sure he got what he deserved. Dartonia was a large ship, ginormous by Aread¡¯s eye-looking talents, if there ever was such a word, but Aread was always more interested about the contents inside this huge ship. Specifically, the crystal he was tasked to ¡®retrieve¡¯ by a client who had offered him an undeniable huge sum of money. Whether the crystal was an alien¡¯s baby or if it was Dread King¡¯s prized jewel, Aread was sure that he was going to get to Dartonia and retrieve the crystal at all costs. It was a shortcut to the future he dreamed of. He wasn¡¯t going to turn that down. Being a real professional, Aread considered all opportunities as well as all the negatives that could be brought about. Do I want to be dead, or do I want to be rich? Or do I want to be dead and rich? These were just some of his minor thoughts, of course. But what he forgot to place on the scale, which consisted of just two ends, like most scales, was that it was Dread King¡¯s personal ship. For most people, the Dread King wasn¡¯t just a king in the galaxy, even if his name gave it away. He was a titan of dread. He was the biggest, baddest, and most borderline insane mafia in the galaxy. Those who messed with figures like him usually ended up in two kinds of dead ditches: ones they dug themselves, or one where the Dread King made sure they dug so that they could get in it. Aread was far from wanting to be caught in a ditch, and neither did he have the time or efficiency to properly dig one too. All the better to be blasted off into space and never return, if he was to die. Not that he was going to do that. Aread grabbed the first thing he could from inside the bag: Extralia crystals, about a dozen of them. A high-powered fuel crystal that enabled factories and mines to be powered up without having to keep a watchful eye on them. Extralia crystals can last up to a decade, and this allowed for it to be used by industrialists, even in high-populated, extravagant sectors in the galaxy. Their usefulness paired with their long lasting time has disabled any major profit for seekers. Almost everyone and their busted up spaceships seemed to have it, and that made the crystals as special as a neon-coloured plasma pistol. It looks cool and everything, but it won¡¯t fetch me much. From inside, Aread took out a few other crystals: blue, red and a few other shiny diamonds. Other than looking downright majestic, these crystals seemed to have been forged by gem-crafters who were only looking for a quick buck, or to use it as leverage against dealers who knew nothing about shinies, which were largely the same. Aread knew this, but getting a few of these on his travels would prove to be useful, and no, what made him a grifter didn¡¯t entirely separate him from being a seeker. They were usually not existing problems. Apart from Prodius dice, used by space mafias as a currency to deal with, and Miasmarra, a gem used by Police Enforcers of the Galaxy (or known butt-hurtedly as PEG) to power-up their human nets (HN), Aread took out the final object inside his green bag, apart from the glowing silver crystal: a small metal ball that was unfettered, seemingly untouched until Aread placed his seeker hands all over it. The silver emboss made the ball look extremely special, but it was only just. He had picked it up from the bin from one of Dread King¡¯s working industries. He wasn¡¯t about to go looking for something that would cause him any trouble, and so he just went there for what he was looking for. This small little ball was just like topping on a transparent cake. ¡°Sir,¡± Trinket said aloud, throwing Aread off. ¡°Trink,¡± Aread said, clutching his heart to his chest. ¡°Please do me a favour and don¡¯t speak until I tell you to. Or if you want to, just don¡¯t sneak up on me like that again.¡± ¡°Okay sir, but-¡± ¡°What did I just say?!¡± ¡°Sir, I just wanted to let you know that the thing you are holding in your hand is actually an iBot,¡± Trinket said. An iBot? What? Aread let Trinket¡¯s words sink in for a moment. Then he scrutinised the small metal ball. ¡°This,¡± he pointed slowly at the ball, ¡°is a bot? Are you hearing yourself right now?¡± Love this story? Find the genuine version on the author''s preferred platform and support their work! Right, that answer has got to be a no. Something¡¯s wrong with Trink. ¡°If you gently press on top of the button located at its head, you will begin the process of starting up the bot,¡± Trinket said. Aread took Trinket¡¯s words as a form of threat, from one android to another, he wouldn¡¯t want the bot he was holding in his hand to go kaboom, right before he had even went through with his future. That would be a dark twist. ¡°Are you sure?¡± Aread said. ¡°As in, it¡¯s not going to kill me, or anything, is it?¡± ¡°No, sir. I¡¯m affirmative,¡± Trinket said. ¡°Alright, stop talking Trink.¡± The last time Aread took an effectual advice from Trinket, he had successfully captured the gem he was sent to procure. Maybe he was indebted to this robot voice after all. Aread lifted his finger over the button slowly. He could hear the swan song in his ears as he did so. I¡¯m not going to die. I don¡¯t want to die. Please don¡¯t explode in my face. He pressed it gently. Lights began spinning around the ball like a disco light from centuries gone. Like a splash of paint, the colours burst around the room like a dance of explosion, and then it stopped. Aread waited for a moment, his eyes big and his hands shaking. ¡°Did I kill it? Is it dead?¡± He asked, waiting for the chance to breathe again. Then the top-half of the bot split open, and Aread dropped the ball immediately onto the ground. ¡°Galaxy-ridden damn it!¡± He yelled as loud as he could. The top-half of the bot now resembled more like a head, with two antennas poking out on either side of a small flat rectangular screen. Then two green eyes popped up, now looking right up at Aread. ¡°I¡¯m terribly sorry, but where am I? And do you happen to know where my master has gone?¡± the tiny bot asked with a little boy¡¯s voice who had lost his toy. Four fans connected to a rod lunged out from all four sides of the tiny bot like a little helicopter from centuries gone. Aread wondered if there were any more surprises that perhaps the tiny bot had up it¡¯s tiny sleeves. Or tiny chassis. Or tiny computer chip. ¡°I think the answer is no, but if you tell me his name maybe I could help you. Or her name. Not that it matters that I¡¯m sexist. I mean, I¡¯m not, of course, it matters but not right now, no.¡± ¡°Her name is Lyranna,¡± the iBot said, using its four fans as wings and then flying right up to Aread¡¯s eye-level. ¡°Have you seen her?¡± Crazy, Aread thought to himself about how this little bot might actually be carrying an explosive inside it¡¯s tiny chassis. Improbable, he thought right after. ¡°No. Can you tell me what she looked like, or something?¡± Aread said. The iBot nodded by rolling it¡¯s head up and down, and then turned towards a blank screen. On it, a projection of a young woman with denim coloured hair, a small heart tattoo on her cheeks, and a pair of black glasses hanging around her neck. She was pretty, exceptionally pretty, the royal business-like pretty. Too bad for Aread, he already had another girl on his mind. ¡°She is Lyranna Lowery, my master,¡± the bot said. ¡°And my name¡¯s Miracle.¡± Miracle opened up the middle-compartment of his body, and a tiny hand held onto another rod came sticking out. ¡°Nice to meet you, Miracle¡­¡± Aread shook the tiny hand before it disappeared right into Miracle¡¯s body. ¡°I didn¡¯t get your name,¡± the bot said, eyes shining a different shade of blue, one that was pale. That¡¯s because I didn¡¯t say it. ¡°My name is Aread Sears. You can just call me Aread, or you can follow what my artificial intelligence, Trinket, that lives rent-free in my ship call me, which is ¡®Sir¡¯. Of course, I programmed him to call me that because, why not?¡± ¡°I called Lyranna ma¡¯am,¡± Miracle said. ¡°Perhaps I was programmed to call her that as well.¡± ¡°So, we¡¯re on the same page but different paragraphs. That¡¯s good to know.¡± Aread scrutinised Miracle even further. ¡°Trinket said that you were an iBot. Can you tell me exactly what it is your functionality enables you to do?¡± he asked. ¡°Well, my functionalities have been turned off, so I can¡¯t exactly do what it is I have been made to do,¡± Miracle said. ¡°Who would do that?¡± ¡°My master. She never really told me why or why she didn¡¯t have it turned on anymore. I just found that perhaps she was just annoyed by it. I am still capable of doing it, though it just needs some time preparing and setting up.¡± If she deemed it annoying, then perhaps I shouldn¡¯t turn it on, Aread thought. Killer explosives, protruding blades, lingering puppets with faces like teabags. ¡°That won¡¯t be necessary,¡± Aread said, gulping at the thought of the ways he would die. At least he won¡¯t die just yet, as long as he doesn¡¯t start up the feature of this little killing machine. Give it a chance, he thought. Maybe it¡¯s a bot that heals. Or heals after destroying your limbs. Aread turned and checked the contents of the bag. Other than all the other shinies that he had dug up earlier and the silver crystal inside, there was pretty much nothing else. Now, he just needed to put the crystal into another separate case where he could bring it to the dealer in a much easier fashion. Easy now, he thought as he slowly pulled the crystal out from the bag. Aread needed both hands as the crystal was a little too big and he wasn¡¯t going to go breaking it like that. When he finally did pull the crystal out, there was a glittering sensation that the seeker himself was sure that he couldn¡¯t subdue. There, in eternal money-making glory, the Cadellite Crystal. The crystal was heavier than a normal rock, lying there in the seeker¡¯s hands. The glitter and the shimmer as it appeared and reflected under the ship¡¯s interior lights caused Aread to peek his eyes at the crystal. The shine is going to be a problem. Aread had been studying crystals for a while, though only because he was a seeker and nothing else. But like what he was holding in his hand, of which he was sure was either one, a superpowered weapon, or two, capable of super powering a weapon, there was certainly going to be problems to be had. The problems I don¡¯t have to deal with. The crystal had been polished beyond belief, sparkling like a torch with layers of cracks that only served to make it seem like it was part of a radioactive iceberg that had been destroyed and left with. ¡°Alright,¡± Aread said, slowly placing the crystal into another suitcase which he was bringing to the dealer. He placed all the shinies he took out back into the green bag of his. With a lingering look at Miracle, Aread found it hard to cope that there was another bot that could talk, fly and do whatever it is that was now disabled. He¡¯d always wanted something like this as a child, and yet now that he had grown up, this was all just immediate child¡¯s play. It was like the aftereffects of medicine after being sick for a full week and realising that one should not deserve to be sick at all. ¡°Are you going to put me back into the bag, sir?¡± Miracle said, with a tone of a child that wished they were sick. What a guilt-processing question. ¡°What?¡± He said. ¡°Of course not. I think you can stay. Just don¡¯t touch anything with your¡­ little thing that comes out of you.¡± Miracle¡¯s eyes flickered brightly. ¡°Thank you, sir!¡± The middle-compartment opened once more, and this time a thumbs up emerged. Do bots not listen to their sirs and ma¡¯ams or am I just not respectable enough? ¡°Okay, that wasn¡¯t necessary, Miracle, but thanks. I appreciate your... thankfulness.¡± Aread returned back to the chair of the cockpit and checked the time that was located on the dashboard. Miracle slowly followed behind, hoping to get a peek that was in front of his new master. ¡°Trink,¡± Aread said, ¡°bring up the engine levels of Mifter.¡± Trinket went quiet like a sitting duck. Oh, right. These galaxy-ridden next-level technology¡­ ¡°You can speak now, Trink,¡± Aread said, almost about to facepalm himself. ¡°Thank you, sir. The levels of the Mifter would allow us to travel a few more locations in different sectors, especially back to Calderac,¡± Trinket said. ¡°There¡¯s more than enough for us to reach back home.¡± Aread nodded. ¡°It¡¯s time for me to go, then,¡± he said. As the seeker stood, Miracle was in the way between him and the next room. ¡°Miracle, you have to move cause¡¯ I¡¯m going to knock into you if you don¡¯t,¡± Aread explained, doing a little hand flutter movement. Miracle moved aside, but still followed his new master as he went into the room. ¡°Where are you going, sir?¡± Miracle said softly. ¡°I¡¯m leaving for awhile, but I¡¯ll be back.¡± Aread stretched his arms to fit into his traditional blue blip suit. ¡°Trink, I need you to check the signature on the bar,¡± he said. ¡°There doesn¡¯t seem to be much activity happening down on the bar,¡± Trinket responded almost immediately. It was almost as if he was withholding information for the sake of withholding it. Perfect, Aread thought. ¡°And the ship I¡¯ve told you to track? Has it come into sphere yet?¡± ¡°No, but I am detecting a ship entering within radius of us at a clear and steady speed.¡± ¡°Miracle,¡± Aread said, as he clipped his plasma pistol into it¡¯s holster and headed for his arcadium-powered gloves. ¡°I need you to stay here, and don¡¯t touch anything, and maybe think of a shorter name that I can call you. Miracle is too long and I need my breath for breathing. Some need it for eating, drinking, speaking, I just need to breathe, is that alright?¡± Miracle nodded reluctantly, unsure. ¡°Okay, sir,¡± it said. The seeker nodded and smiled. Perhaps my experience with artificial intelligence did serve me well. ¡°Prepare to land, Trink,¡± Aread said, and held onto the briefcase that contained the crystal and sat down onto the cockpit. In a few minutes, Mifter landed without hiccup onto the sporadic parking lot of Fresnic¡¯s Bar. And immediately, as Aread¡¯s cold boots met the hard rock surfaces of the tiny meteor slab, he could tell that something was wrong. Terribly wrong. There were other ships here, and generally, that meant a world of problems for Aread. A seeker could only deal with certain static traps, or dynamic traps too, but people? That¡¯s not really his forte. It was like a hunter trying to go through a hundred laser traps and failing at the first one. It was going to be utterly embarrassing. Aread stepped out from his ship. It was the last time that he was doing this, until he has to do it again, but for now, he was sure that there was nothing else following this that could top the experience of returning home. Well, there¡¯s watching the fireworks. Or the Buddy Gang games. Batterium sucks. Oh, and Rosie, of course. Many things awaited him at home, and all he needed to do was close out this deal. This was more important than he could possibly imagine, and for Aread, he had imagined a lot. A lot more than other seekers, and definitely a lot more than most people. Aread carried onto the rocky path that lead to the tiny establishment that resembled a bar. In gemstone letters, brighter than that of a bulb in a person¡¯s head wrote: ¡®Fresnic¡¯s Bar! Uniting the galaxy with drinks to quench your thirst!¡¯ He was impressed first of all by the details; the gemstones were indeed placed to near-perfection to illuminate every word delightfully. He walked up the steps that followed and came straight to the double metal doors. Wait. Aread stopped. He checked his suit, his shoes, his hair. The mirror in the doors helped him to fix his posture and settle which hand to carry the suitcase in, and for a man about to finish what he set out to do, what better way then to go out comfortably and in style? The former more so than the latter. What if this was it? What if, of all the times that he¡¯d told himself no, and sometimes yes, could be made up right now, with just everything he needed? This could be the redeeming moment of his life. He held the case close to him and the handle clutched tight. Breathe deep, he thought. It was the credits he needed to acquire the future. His future. And so, Aread breathed in deep and pushed opened the door. That was, after all, his idea of what breathing was meant for. 02b: Miracles from Thorns Klara SLAM! Klara¡¯s escape ship dove and skidded along the great plains of a nearby giant meteor slab. The colours of dull brown and the crushing pain of being trapped in one¡¯s own ship as it came tumbling toward was all that she could see and feel. If the ship Klara had boarded was any other escape ship with semi-capabilities of an escape ship, maybe she wouldn¡¯t have felt that way. Usually, escape ships could fly over at least a few hundred kilometres before they broke a hole or have their oxygen tanks squeezed out of them. But not Bose¡¯s escape ships. If he wanted you dead like a spring roll on a silver plate, then Klara knew that you¡¯ll be damned to be a spring roll on a silver plate regardless. Klara kicked the doors of the escape ship that was closed tight. Galaxy-ridden¡­! Klara¡¯s situation was not unheard of. Yes, she was being squeezed out of her life, and she was about to get blown up by an escape ship, she was still in good shape to escape from the, ironically, escape ship. Bose had done her good. In fact, Bose had probably done a lot of his enemies good. Who would ever thought that of all the dangerous places out there in the galaxy, the escape ship would cause so much trouble for a bounty hunter with a sea of experience? Not Klara, of course. If she didn¡¯t work her way out of this predicament, she might become a dead bounty hunter. Gotta¡¯ deal with the galaxy-ridden door first¡­! Klara pulled her hand right to where she kept Venge. There was a shuffle and a click, and Venge was now out from its holster. She struck the claw deep behind the handles of the door of the ship, and with whatever remaining strength she had left, which as she realised wasn¡¯t a whole lot, she pulled it right towards her. TUG. TUG. ¡­ CRASH! The handle smattered loose and broke apart, allowing Klara to push herself up and out from the escape ship. It took her a few seconds to get used to the blinding light outside before she recognized it. The red essence that hung in the sky like a bright torch had been blazing down on the hunter. She had remembered it like the last time she was here. The Scarlet Skies. That was where Klara was, in the part of the region of the galaxy where population wasn¡¯t stifled and the economy was still functional. Nowadays, little things like making sure that she wasn¡¯t about to get her head blown off was top priority. Not the colour of the sky, the winds in these particular areas, and who she¡¯d owed money to. Klara¡¯s eyes lowered to the surroundings around her. The light didn¡¯t quite attack her like when she had left from the escape ship. Blue sky, green buildings and dead flowers. Klara walked out a little further before she allowed herself to take a gander that no longer lived to blossom in front of her. Sad, she thought. Shame. Perhaps the trees in these areas had tall beams, leaves that swayed gently and freely, and now there were no more. The trees had died, the plants withered, but at least the sky was still blue, she figured. There had to be some form of positivity to take from all this once-was. And she knew that more than anyone. She used to live on the once-was. Taken by Serro Crane, taken by the all-conqueror, and now her quest is to get back at that galaxy-ridden prick. Klara always knew that the escape ships on Bose¡¯s ship or any of the ships that belonged to the people she tried to kill were always never far-ending. And if they did, they wouldn¡¯t get far from where they crashed, and he would personally chase them down and eliminate them. Thankfully for her, or not, Bose was on a little mission to God-knows-where. She was perhaps still just a little spy on a man who had yet to pick up the swatter. Klara wasn¡¯t the smartest in the galaxy, and she was obviously not dumb. She knew full well that heading into a colossal fort of Bose¡¯s or anybody else¡¯s ship meant that she was either going to have to fight her way out, die, or simply become a prisoner of that skirmish. She had envisioned everything, but that was only in her mind. If it did play out just as she expected, she was sure she would have been able to deal with it efficiently. If only things fell in place at the right time, or if she could only do it well enough -- ¡°So,¡± an elderly woman said as she watched Klara stand a few metres away from the fiery remains of the escape ship. ¡°Are you alright, sweety?¡± She wore what seemed to be stripes of grade-B military armor that seemed to have been used long before she even held it. The colours had faded, her skin toned, and her eyes were like large cannonballs waiting to fire. Her hair was parked to one side revealing a solemn tattoo that scorched the side of her head. It was a tattoo of what seemed to be a helmet of some sort, probably belonging to a cult or a gang of some kind. Cute, Klara thought. Next to the woman was a new Parmacular. A speedy, neon-chromed two-seater that reminded people of what it was like for high-speed land travel from cities to cities. The intensity. The rides. The breeze. The breeze was no longer there, but it was good and it seemed fitting to remind them of days they never got to experience a thousand years ago. It had the base chassis of a car, but the horsepower of a small speeder that allowed the Parmacular to burst forward when it needed to in order to gain an edge in small distances during chases or escapes. While the vehicle did contain two wings that could be enabled from the inside, the Parmacular wasn¡¯t able to fly a straight distance without dropping down or dipping its head downward. At some point a vehicle can only do so much, and this particular vehicle wasn¡¯t a ship, that¡¯s for sure. Behind the two seats was also a small little hatch in which things can be deposited to and fro. While Klara had never driven nor been in any of these, she couldn¡¯t quite to attest to whatever it was that people placed inside the hatch for. Maybe it was a form of drugs, Xyuke, an emotion-enhancing drug that a lot of new-formed junkies would sip right into tubes and up their noses like new kinds of addicts. She wants me. Klara watched the woman from a distance. She has to know who I am. I can¡¯t let her know about anything. Klara checked herself. The lights of the Purple Thorn were still bright, the Tetoid gem was still shining, her helmet still covering the rounds of her face and she was probably capable enough of fighting her way through at least a dozen high-class armored pricks. This woman would be no match for her. Klara ignored the woman and went back to the burning abomination of a ship and retrieved her blade, checking for anything that she may have left behind in the wreckage. ¡°You know, I could give you a ride back to the city. Or, well, what remains of a city. Not that you¡¯re from here, of course,¡± the woman said. ¡°Name¡¯s Moryna. M-O-R-Y-N-A.¡± ¡°I¡¯m not looking for a ride, lady,¡± Klara said, pushing back up her hair and wincing as she limped her way forward to the green buildings in the near distance. Shit¡¯ll take a while to heal. Moryna smiled as she strode herself towards Klara. The uneasy feeling pointed at the back of the hunter was enough to convince the hunter to stop moving. GUN COCK. ¡°I know who you are, Purple Thorn,¡± Moryna said, ¡°and I suggest you come with me. Not a threat or anything, just saying.¡± ¡°And if I don¡¯t?¡± Klara said, trying to play it cool. That¡¯s the definition of a galaxy-ridden threat right there. ¡°Your choice, but so far, people who¡¯ve decided to not do what I tell them at this point of the conversation usually end up dead, or dead.¡± ¡°Then there¡¯s not much of a galaxy-ridden choice.¡± Moryna laughed. ¡°That¡¯s what I¡¯m telling ya¡¯.¡± Klara sighed. Galaxy-ridden prick. ¡°Like I said, your choice,¡± Moryna pushed the gun up behind Klara¡¯s back. SLIDE. Klara was feeling less comfortable by the second. ¡°What do you want?¡± she asked. ¡°I want you to come with me,¡± Moryna demanded. Moryna slapped an electric bracelet that tied Klara¡¯s hands behind her back and locked it, bringing her towards the Parmacular and placing her into the passenger¡¯s seat. ¡°You do know that I¡¯m no threat to you, and that I¡¯ve somewhere to go,¡± Klara said, eyeing Moryna as she went across the front of the vehicle to the driver¡¯s seat. ¡°I know,¡± she said, entering into the driver¡¯s seat. ¡°But that doesn¡¯t mean that makes you any less of who you are, does it, Purple Thorn?¡± Ah, guessing games again. And I¡¯ve won the grand galaxy-ridden prize. ¡°I¡¯m not always going to abide what you say, just a heads-up,¡± Klara said truthfully. It wasn¡¯t because she was a rebel, but it was because she really had somewhere to be. ¡°I expected that,¡± Moryna said. ¡°And just for the record, I¡¯m going to kill you if I get the chance.¡± Moryna grinned. ¡°We¡¯ll see, won¡¯t we?¡± She started up the engines, and then took another longing look at Klara. ¡°What?¡± Klara said, annoyed, drifting out to the clouds of white. ¡°You know, you seemed more intimidating in the rumours that swirled.¡± ¡°Give me my gun, and I¡¯ll make sure those rumours become truths.¡± Moryna smiled. ¡°That¡¯s what I expected,¡± she said, and the Parmacular drove right on the paths that lead to the tiny green city up ahead. The dust had settled along the path, and the green buildings were getting nearer and nearer. Up ahead, in the clouds, Klara could only wonder if she could see Bose¡¯s ship from where she was. Perhaps Bose had already reached his destination and was preparing for another deal to give Serro a new power to wield. She shuddered at the thought, but she had to get herself out of the chains first. Her leg had somewhat healed, though not fully. If she were to start running at her usual pace she could get herself in more trouble than what she intended for. ¡°Do you know where we are?¡± Moryna asked Klara as she kept her eyes on the road. ¡°Scarlet Skies,¡± Klara replied. ¡°You¡¯ve got any enemies here?¡± ¡°I¡¯m not going to answer every question you throw at me,¡± Klara said. ¡°Fair. That¡¯s fair. But I would like you to know that I¡¯m not privy to the information you disclose. I just want to know why a serial killer would be in town. One that¡¯s as infamous as famous as yourself.¡± That was a crude way of saying something, Klara thought, but people are people. They say one thing and forget about another. Or they say one thing and say another. ¡°I didn''t drop in just to say hi. I was on a-¡± Klara stopped herself. Giving away needless information was definitely not the way to go. ¡°On a what? A trip? In your favourite rocket ship?¡± Moryna continued from where Klara had left off. The hunter wasn¡¯t sure whether to laugh or to keep motionless, or a mix of those emotions, but she went with keeping a straight face. Perhaps that was better, without having to emote or use those tired muscles on her face, allowing her to use them for later when the bang bangs and the shoot shoots got out of control. That always happens. ¡°I don¡¯t think that¡¯s much of your concern,¡± Klara said. ¡°If you¡¯re on a rocket ship, then it is very much my concern. These thing have been exchanged for lighter aircrafts, speedy corvettes and terminal carrier ships that have come and gone,¡± Moryna said. ¡°They are a thing of the past, and we¡¯re living in the future.¡± Of course I¡¯d galaxy-ridden know that, I¡¯m not an idiot! The Parmacular drove past a dozen of ruined buildings that seemed to have roots and tendrils rising over them. Nature had taken control of this land and this slab of meteor, and maybe, it will continue to do so. This planet is, at its current state, uninhabitable. But could you even call it a planet? Klara shot a look at Moryna. She didn¡¯t seem concerned about the lands and how the flora and fauna had taken over life here, but being concerned with rocket ships and how it was to live life in the past? Maybe she was just pulling her leg, or maybe she was just finding it funny, which as Klara thought about it, both of them were largely the same. Taken from Royal Road, this narrative should be reported if found on Amazon. ¡°We¡¯re here,¡± Moryna said with a less-than enthusiastic tone about their arrival. Moryna stopped the Parmacular by the front of a towering building. On its outside, the fading colours of green and blue and the signs of old-age concrete seemed to indicate that life had gone for this once-great building, sort of like the fading colours that Moryna wore. Klara wasn¡¯t very good at noticing these things, but when she had seen what the building looked like, and how ugly and desperate it¡¯s pillars had become, she felt a little hurt inside. Moryna stopped the engines and exited the Parmacular. ¡°What is this place?¡± Klara said as Moryna walked over to the hunter to pull her out of the vehicle. ¡°This is a jail for you, but a hideout for the rest of us. And just to add a little touch onto the extremes for you, you¡¯ll be staying here for quite some time.¡± ¡°Cherry,¡± Klara said. Another day, another galaxy-ridden problem. While most hunters were able to adapt to changing conditions, situations and circumstances, Klara was different. Yes, she was your typical hunter. Rob, loot and steal, but most importantly, to eliminate the target bounty that had been set upon by her client. She¡¯d trained very much so, sharpening her skills as she took out each target one-by-one. This enabled Klara to be proactive in her search for her target, and being able to be as relentless as possible. Though, she must admit, she is still improving upon the last point. One thing Klara couldn¡¯t quite admit to having was a soft heart. Or, at least, that was what she thought. When she had come around to the point that perhaps a hunter can indeed have a heart of gold, or a heart in the first place, it would limit the hunter¡¯s ability to be the best in the galaxy. In this case, Klara¡¯s search for revenge against Serro Crane. She dismissed the fact that it would be easy, with the rage and the anger burning inside of her, to take out Serro without a drip of regret. It was the easiest of her targets to manage, but the hardest to get to. Usually, on her trips to reaching her target, she would end up in areas she didn¡¯t want to. She would also be a victim, a prisoner, or a variety of those things. But she was still alive, and that was a testament to her ability to be smart and out-think her opponent and her target. Maybe she did need to re-think about how she felt about her intellectual self. Not a lot of hunters survive coming conflict and still end up with limbs that are not detachable. That was a point, too. Klara had a code for herself, a principle she stuck by with. Unless the enemy was a target she had intended to kill, then there will be no mercy. Otherwise, there would be conflict. Conflict is not good for anyone, but for a hunter, this doesn¡¯t complicate situations. Rather, it overcomplicates everything. Seems the only way is to get out of this mess, Klara thought as Moryna and her arrived to the door that lead into the tall, old building, is by classic brutal effort. ¡°So, what are you hiding in there, a cult of idiots?¡± Klara said. ¡°No, not exactly a cult. More like a clan, or a gang of some sort. We¡¯re not really privy to share information that would enable us to get wiped out, would we?¡± Moryna said. ¡°You¡¯ve just shown me your location, didn¡¯t you? Aren¡¯t you afraid I might come back to kill you? Or worse, torture you? Make banana skins out of you and your cult of idiots?¡± Klara said. ¡°Darling,¡± Moryna said, ¡°there¡¯s a lot you still don¡¯t really know. For example, you don¡¯t know whether you¡¯d get out of here, or whether if you knew exactly what was inside, or if you¡¯d know what I¡¯d do to you if I had the chance. Which, I must preface, would be worse than what you can ever clearly do to me.¡± ¡°Try me,¡± Klara said. ¡°That¡¯s my plan,¡± Moryna said. Her face glimmered with a smile. She stepped over to the left of the door and placed her hand to the scanner. The door zipped open. PSSH. CRACK-BOOM. Moryna grabbed Klara by the shoulders and carried her forward. Bunch of cats with sharper and longer claws then necessary, Klara thought. But she¡¯s nervous. Klara could tell when Moryna had dragged her forward and further deep into the building. This wasn¡¯t much of a tell, at least not from the naked eye, but it was a good point that she¡¯d want to take note and advantage of if she could. That was what a hunter does after all. No hunter that didn¡¯t do that survived anything. Other than broken down computers, some spare parts that could have been useful to furnaces, the building interiors were empty and abandoned for what looked to be years. Klara was no seeker, but she could tell by the deep tunnels that Moryna was leading her into show more than what meets the eye. ¡°So, how did you get into the murdering business?¡± Moryna said. ¡°You¡¯ve got a little too much saliva to waste, don¡¯t you?¡± ¡°I asked you first.¡± ¡°I¡¯m not answering anything.¡± ¡°Okay, then maybe if I asked you another question, you¡¯d be able to answer something.¡± ¡°Perhaps I wasn¡¯t clear. I¡¯m not answering shit.¡± Moryna grinned. Klara knew she was going to ask anyway. ¡°How many times have you been to this region of the galaxy, hunter?¡± Moryna said. ¡°The Scarlet Skies seem to interest you very much, doesn¡¯t it?¡± I¡¯m not answering, Klara thought. Besides, there¡¯s no reason to. ¡°You know the targets you¡¯ve eliminated? Perhaps you¡¯d like to know a little thing or two about them,¡± Moryna said. ¡°Perhaps you¡¯re aides or your friends do.¡± No, I don¡¯t. The ceiling light at the end of the hall grew brighter, and Klara knew they were reaching the end. Perhaps this was her chance to strike. Let Moryna speak her monologue, let her soliloquy herself out of her own expense, and when the opportunity arrived, she would take it and not look back. She hadn¡¯t dealt much with people of her kind. In fact, she was hardly ever a prisoner where her captor was beside her all the time, asking question after question. It was annoying. A hunter like her was thrown into jails first before even being accepted into a normal conversation. This was unfamiliar territory for Klara, but a territory that she did not want to experience ever again. ¡°We¡¯re here,¡± Moryna said as they reached a room of stairs that spiralled up into the heavens and lowered down into the depths of hell. Even if the depths had disappeared into the darkness below, a glint of light from one of the stray lamps allowed Klara a view into what she could see down into the bottom. There were children. Lots of them, as Klara saw from up above, preparing to work on a new set of vehicle, a Parmacular. A new and improved version, as Klara expected, with a model that she hadn¡¯t quite seen before. Children, as Klara could identify, as young as 8 or 10-year-olds had been tasked to work on the vehicle. Galaxy-ridden, she thought. Moryna¡¯s using orphans as slaves! Klara was at first horrified at the thought of child slaves, but her perspective wandered somewhere else. What if the kids meant to do it themselves? What if the orphans were just like¡­ me? Used, misused, and trained and raised in ways they never had a chance of saying? Up above, through the transparent ceiling, Klara could also see a dozen or so other children carrying what seemed to be ship parts around from one end to the next. Some of them had tiny arms that could barely lift whatever part it was they were carrying. Some of them were carrying large fan blades that needed three or more other kids to carry together. Klara¡¯s instincts immediately snapped to Moryna being a terrible, displeasing, disgusting monster. Big mother, or something like that, but still with horrible traits. ¡°What is there to see?¡± Klara said. ¡°That you use these kids as a way for you to shuffle your product to come together?¡± ¡°Orphans,¡± Moryna said. ¡°These children were orphans, are orphans. Not born so, not prepared so, but they are now.¡± ¡°And this concerns me how?¡± Moryna pointed to one of the kids below. He had a maroon cap, was of short height and had flimsy fingers as he tried to lift up a heavy gear. ¡°Tomard Leony¡¯s kid,¡± Moryna said. ¡°Was a target by a bartender from a few years ago. I think you know what happened to him.¡± It''s true, Klara did. Tomard was a target placed by Elph Yura, a bartender from one of the nearby bars. After Tomard got drunk and smashed up Elph''s bar, Elph sent out a hit onto Tomard to make sure that he would never see the light of day ever again. Klara was the first to pick up the bounty that was then sent through the score pipeline. Unfortunately, Healy, Tomard¡¯s wife, was also caught in the complications. But she didn''t remember no kid. She¡¯s missing the point. She¡¯s trying to get a reaction out of me. I¡¯m not going to blunder it here like an idiot. Klara didn''t answer Moryna regarding the kid. There was no need to. What would it help? To ease the pain of death? To ease the pain of grief? Or to ease the pain of lying, right to her face? ¡°There,¡± Moryna said, to a girl with long hair and a bandage wrapped around her arm. ¡°Myrstle Shone. An orphan only just last month. Does the last name ring a bell?¡± ¡°I know what you''re trying to do,¡± Klara said as her mind revolved around her most recent trips to Scarlet Skies. ¡°And it''s not working.¡± ¡°I''m not stupid,¡± Moryna said. ¡°I''m not here to play games with a hunter that is equipped to kill me and leave with no remorse. What I''m trying to show you is that you can''t keep getting away with this.¡± Getting away? Klara didn''t understood what Moryna was saying. Yes, she was a hunter. Yes, she showed no remorse. But what was she supposed to do? Being a hunter was a job, and like every job in the galaxy, nobody gets away with anything in their job, especially a hunter. It would take a fool to pay the price for doing what they were tasked to do, even if it meant they were emotionally attached one way or another. For Klara, like everyone in the desperate galaxy, credits always came first. Living was always the main priority, not whether a child had a parent or not. Even if Klara was an orphan herself. ¡°It''ll take a lot,¡± Klara said, ¡°to convince me of my sins. And I know about all of them.¡± Moryna walked closer. ¡°You don¡¯t need convincing. You just need to pay the price that has been long indebted to you, right now.¡± She held a plasma knife from behind her. A small, sharp dagger that glowed neon green with a toxic edge that seemed to prove more dangerous than Klara admitted. Still, she had dealt with worst. Shit. I need to use that dagger as my advantage, Klara thought. If she didn¡¯t make a move fast, the dagger was to come right up onto her arm, or her thigh, or possibly throw her down for the kids below. Kids below. That was a key. Klara shifted her leg backwards, taking a ready stance. It had to be quick and fast. ¡°You don¡¯t want to play with knives around a galaxy-ridden hunter, that¡¯s for sure,¡± Klara said, buying enough time for her to think of an escape plan. ¡°It¡¯s true, we don¡¯t have much remorse, and neither do we care that much about our bounties, kids or not.¡± ¡°It seems I haven¡¯t gotten through to that thick skull of yours,¡± Moryna said, bringing the knife ever so closer to the bounty hunter¡¯s neck. Klara grinned. ¡°And you never will.¡± Moryna lunged forward, her knife striking right at Klara. Years of training instincts and urgency have taught Klara well. Just before the edges of the blade had struck Klara¡¯s arm, she struggled right, allowing the knife to slice right into the handcuffs. SNAP! Off came the cuffs, tumbling and rattling down the stairs. With a light foot propelling Klara off the ground, she stabbed her feet into the gaps of the railing and dived down into the stairs below. Her cape spun, and so did she, and she was falling faster and faster, and her eyes could barely keep up. This better galaxy-ridden work¡­! Klara was free-falling. She kept her eyes open, her body watching the sky through the transparent ceiling, feeling the tight air and bristling wind brush up against her skin. She was almost reaching the end, and she reminded herself so. Almost there... It was a good feeling. It was almost¡­ ...unending¡­ And yet, just before she had hit the bottom of the floor, before landing right into the Parmacular, Klara spun back around to face the ground. ...Now. THUD! Klara landed right in the driver¡¯s seat of the Parmacular, her hands freed of captivity. Now, her capabilities of becoming a hunter were back to what they¡¯ve always been: enough to get away from pesky annoyances. She rubbed onto her knee. It was workable. Klara equipped her claw-hook gun and trained it right to the top of the building, and with her trigger finger, pulled the claw upwards to the top of the ceiling. It was perhaps a little too easy. ¡°Children!¡± Moryna yelled from the railing up top. ¡°Catch her!¡± Klara watched the young little orphans, eyes too pure and innocent to understand attack. And she was right. The orphans only watched, returning back to fixing the Parmacular. They were just¡­ kids. Some of them not even old enough to dictate their own actions. Shame, Klara thought. A child¡¯s life taken away from their very grasp, stripped to do the one thing that disabled them of enjoyment and their childhood. There had been moments before when Klara had thought she¡¯d gotten away with her own childhood. Before the suffering, before the running little rats of living a life¡­ Klara had indeed gotten away better than most of them. So long. Klara pushed her head upwards, and shot herself up to where the claw-hook had been trained at. SHOOT! She was rippling upwards, the freedom of the wind attacking her skin, and she was just about to pass Moryna by on her way up. Galaxy-ridden prick! With a swing of the arm, Klara moved away from where she knew Moryna would catch her and simply let herself get caught in the rapture of flying up. RING! Klara could only hear the sound of the buzzing wind, passing Moryna by in a quick instant before she could do anything else. CRASH! From above, Klara cracked open the ceiling and pulled herself up. A man, slender with slight muscles and brainy spectacles stuck to his face turned to face Klara with a clipboard in hand. Behind him, there were even more kids shuffling from place to place, dirt in the form of handprints on their faces, and their hands too busy with the heavy load that they were carrying. Son of a bitch. ¡°You-¡± the man said, but he could barely get the words out before Klara started bolting off. Klara had taken note of a light-premium jet, torn and tattered from delivery missions she supposed, but the ship was more than enough to carry her out of this shithole and take her to where she needed to go. She just needed to reach there before the man, who was now gaining speed on her, could get to. No weapons. No tools. No special powers. Klara grinned. They can¡¯t possibly catch me. Just as she reached the jet, Klara pushed herself upwards with one striking leg onto the jet. The force and the jump carried her upwards, and then somersaulting in the air before landing right behind the man that had ran all the way with a clipboard and hardly any fighting equipment. Fool¡¯s gold, Klara thought. Before the man could react, Klara threw a quick right hook across the man¡¯s face. PUNCH! The man crashed to the ground, barely conscious, his clipboard sliding fast and away from him. ¡°No, you can¡¯t take that jet!¡± The man screamed, barely clinging on and scraping his arms to get to Klara¡¯s legs as she climbed up the side of the ship. ¡°It¡¯s not yours!¡± The man continued screaming. Too late. PSH! Klara popped open the doors to the ship and allowed herself in without any danger. She started the engines immediately, trying to get back the time that she had lost here with Moryna. Her target was Bose, and eventually Serro. Not a woman and man with a bunch of orphans to their name. And one that hoarded so many to do her outrageous bidding. In the corner of Klara¡¯s eyes as she started up the jet and took it right into the skies she could see Moryna¡¯s tired expressions looking right up to her. Nobody had won this little skirmish, as Klara would have liked it to be noted, even if she did steal a jet that belonged to the enemy¡¯s. All the lifting, all the commands. Young kids, some of them possibly equipped with bright futures, and yet here they were, scraping to fix things for a bunch of scumbags. But how was this Klara¡¯s concern? It wasn¡¯t, and she shouldn¡¯t try to have a hand on stirring this pot that she wasn¡¯t going to do anything with. Looking up at the galaxy and the trail that Bose had given her, Klara drove the jet upward and onward. Catching Bose was top priority, not the kids. Of course, she was still scarred by them, partially with herself and how she was just like them. No, not just like. I was. I used to be them. Klara was always going to find herself in orphans or kids. That was a part of her that she could never change, and she was not going to. Somethings have to change, she thought as her mind returned to one target. And it will have to begin with me. 3: Space Masquerade Aread Okay, Aread thought to himself as the cold air around him sunk into the pores of his skin. It was very much like the everyday filth of air from other planets that he never wished he had to feel again. It¡¯s not bad. Not as bad as Tierana, or as good as Zeranos, but it¡¯s¡­ breathable. This time, he could forgive the ridiculous past meetings and the oblivious troubles and go straight to the point: get in, do the deed, and get out. Of course, much like all troubles, nothing this easy was ever going to be this easy. Would he lie? Aread couldn¡¯t get the thought out of his mind. Why would the black figure, the man he was doing the deal with, lie? Maybe he forgot about the deal. Maybe he didn¡¯t seem to use his eyes to see that there were people here? But to do a deal in a crowded place with people pouring juke, a drug in space, into their nostrils to enhance their abilities to remember, with the radio on so loud that his eardrums could possibly be pierced and never fully healed¡­ ...Galaxy-ridden¡­ Aread¡¯s seeker instincts were in full play, and it was a good thing. It allowed him to survey the room with close attention, pull back the curtains on the details and ensure himself a quick escape if he ever needed it. Not that the deal would go awry, or the deal wouldn¡¯t be done, or if he wouldn¡¯t ever receive the credits he duly requested for. Not none of the above. Apart from these thoughts, he couldn¡¯t quite dismiss the bar as being anything but quiet. It was a bustling cafe, filled to the brim with unusual characters with top hats raised almost to the roof and pointed shoes that made them look understandably ridiculous. Aread wasn¡¯t sure why people would subject themselves to such eyesore torture, to others and themselves. Probably because they only have to look in the mirror once for a few seconds, and the rest of us left with a scar that lasts at least for a few minutes. Aread walked ahead. The radio sounds penetrated the thick cold air, sending in news about kids learning to build an atomic bomb and navigating with interstellar technology or the like, about distant conventions in nearby planets and the sports game of batterium, a galaxy-favourite, that Aread had tuned out in his head. There were some other chatter that went around, some other seekers talking about their own trades, some hunters talking about a specific purple-fitted marauder who they weren''t really sure which side she was ultimately on. They rumbled and they droned, but their existence was just for someone else, and he wasn¡¯t interested. While the entire galaxy clamored for a shot of fame at being a batterium player or just to listen about other galaxy celebrities, he had tuned it all out. It was just nonsense. Aread reached the counter, where a stout man with a grand moustache stood wiping the glasses clean. The man had one eye ready on the seeker, and another on the bar behind him. ¡°What do you want?¡± The bartender asked, whom Aread had assumed was Fresnic. ¡°Do you serve coffee?¡± Aread asked. It was a good question, he thought, since nowadays coffee was homebrewed, no longer served unless cafes and bars decided to. It wasn¡¯t profitable, and the galaxy had turned to more important things like destroying their own lives or the lives of others. And getting a ton of credits, of course. ¡°Sure, we do serve coffee,¡± Fresnic said, sliding the cleaned glass to one side. ¡°Then I would like one cup of coffee, please,¡± Aread said with a smile. ¡°Any additional requests?¡± ¡°More sugar, please? And, also, if possible, could I get another one in a sort of bag that is opaque and possibly doesn¡¯t look like it contains coffee?¡± Fresnic looked at his customer as if he was a toad that could suddenly speak. ¡°I¡¯m sorry,¡± he said, ¡°but what?¡± Alright, Aread thought. Plan A failed miserably, let¡¯s not resort to plan B. ¡°Just a cup of coffee would do, then. Thanks.¡± ¡°That would cost five credits.¡± FIVE CREDITS?! GALAXY-RIDDEN¡­! Aread''s fingers drummed around the table. ¡°Alright, fine,¡± he said, reluctantly, as he flipped out five little packets that came out from the front pocket of his shirt. ¡°One cup of coffee coming right up,¡± Fresnic said aloud. Who is he talking to? Aread thought. There¡¯s no one else beside him. Aread watched for a moment as Fresnic disappeared behind the counter and left him alone. The last time anybody ever paid five credits for a cup of coffee was never, and of course, he already knew he was getting screwed. But what would stop him from ever getting a coffee? Nothing. Time and place didn¡¯t matter. Aread turned back to scanning the rest of the bar, the entrails and the people, and preferably giving his thoughts some space to breathe. Without getting the attention of most people, this allowed him to return to his seeker instincts just before he ordered his cup of coffee. Okay, I¡¯m looking at a few exits. First off all, the entrance. It¡¯s good, tidy, but double doors means if I should want to leave from there in the expectancy of a kerfuffle, then perhaps it would be good for me to strike the deal close to there. Empty tables flanked by a few chairs? Great. That¡¯s a solid right there. Now, the other exits are slightly more difficult. Sky-hook to the glass ceiling and beyond, and the backdoor to the bar. Sky-hook is plausible, but since I don¡¯t have a sky-hook, it¡¯s ridiculous. Why am I even thinking of this? Galaxy-ridden, Aread, think about the predicament you¡¯ve landed yourself in! The backdoor is great, obviously, like most backdoors in pubs and bars, but if I do land myself in hot soup or in my case, hot coffee, then surely the backdoor would have to be used by the villain? The villain, without assuming, would of course be my dealer. He would use the backdoor to come in, and use it to go out, park his little space-mobile there in the parking lot, give himself ample time to set-up a trap and then slink his way out of there like the criminal he was going to be. This is, as a count of all things, if the deal turned sour. Not that I¡¯m betting on it to turn sour, but rather as a precaution. Now, to think about what to say-- ¡°Here,¡± Fresnic said, sliding our ¡®not-criminal¡¯ the glass of coffee he had wanted. ¡°Thanks,¡± Aread said, smiling, pulling the coffee closer to him, and then returning back to his internal monologue. Obviously, I¡¯ve planned it out. It was going to be easy, the old-rodeo, just like always. Say upfront what I have, what he has, what our deal is. Get the deal done, one-hand on the opposite of the barter, and the other on mine, and switch it at the same time. Gives me a lot of time to assess the case or the box, and then decide if I¡¯d made a terrible choice to invest in the coffee because it is¡­ terrible. Aread looked up at Fresnic, who didn¡¯t bother to look at his customer sitting so close to him, and wondered if he was registered or even qualified to open a bar in the middle of what was nowhere on the galaxy map. Aread took a sip, and his eyes went blank and his tongue flew out. WHAT?! This galaxy-ridden ¡®coffee¡¯ tastes like soil! Not that I know what soil tastes like, or anyone who deliberately eats or drinks soil would know. Actually, maybe they would. But, that¡¯s not the point. Aread placed his cup of ¡®coffee¡¯ down. It seemed to ruin his train of thoughts, but he was determined to go back to it. The point was to get it done and over quickly, just like always. I could do it like with Gin Atoma, a dealer from Verditer Lands, with the paramount gems from the mining facility out of the region, preferably with a short stint of words and then a push of the case, tap my feet and out I go. That is ideal, but I definitely don¡¯t want it to end like Miss Ealion Grace. Gosh, that was fettering and ridiculous. Who the hell wants a seeker, of all people, to do escort missions while trying to sneak a gem out of a prison?! You know what? Miss Ealion Grace can eat it. And drink Fresnic¡¯s cup of ridiculous ¡®not coffee¡¯. Aread looked around the bar as his mind went to different places all at once. The people here didn¡¯t help to cure the tension fluttering in the cold air, conflating into a mix of uncertainty. He checked the time that was on the nearby digital clock. Dealer¡¯s late. Why should I be surprised? He scoffed. Sure, I¡¯ve been late a couple of times, but there¡¯s usually a reason. The ice ring was because I¡¯d been stuck in a stupid hoop with the police, or PEG, and I was fifteen minutes late. You can¡¯t blame me for that! Everyone knows PEG can eat it, along with Miss Ealion. But he¡¯s the one with the credits, not the gem. He¡¯s the one who¡¯s bringing in the easiest thing out of all the harder ones, and all he needed to do was to bring the correct amount as spoken before on the trade deal. Literally, the dealer¡¯s job is the easiest compared to the seeker. You don¡¯t see seekers complaining. ¡®Oof, I stuffed my toe on the bridge while carrying a ten-ton nuke from Timbuktu¡¯, or the galaxy version of Timbuktu. You don¡¯t hear seekers giving excuses, or trite ¡®reasons¡¯ for being late for anything. Every seeker has a code that they stick to and follow. Breaking that code wouldn¡¯t be treason, it would be very much like exile. And I am a firm defender of not breaking that very code. Once a seeker, always a coffee drinker. The casual ring from the backdoor perked up Aread¡¯s ears. As he figured, the dealer was here. Alright, focus, Aread thought, doing just that. He fixed up his unkempt hair, tugged his jacket down and patted his trousers. He wasn¡¯t sure why he did the last two, but he supposed that it must have made him look better because he felt better. A man, strutting in with a distinct swagger that revelled upon inspection, carried a spiked rod in one hand and a briefcase in another. Aread had looked at the man at such length that he was sure, even swearing on his life -- galaxy knows why -- that the man was indeed the dealer. And so the dealer walked, his feet lifted up and trotted down, each with precise movements before he caught Aread sitting down by the counter and started towards him. We can¡¯t talk here, Aread thought immediately. Best to follow the blueprint from earlier. Take him to the entrance? ¡°You must be, as I recall--¡± ¡°I would very much like to not reveal myself here, at this spot,¡± Aread said, standing up and preparing to leave the disgusting sight of coffee behind. ¡°But, if you don¡¯t mind, we can take a seat there.¡± Aread pointed to the front of the entrance where an empty table with two seats situated. Stick to your plans and get it done. The dealer half-turned a look at the prospects of doing a deal there, away from unnecessary chatter and other nonsense, and nodded respectfully at Aread¡¯s decision. ¡°Sure,¡± he said. ¡°Let us make do over there.¡± Halfway to perfect. Aread and the dealer walked over, and the dealer, with his spiked rod stuck out, shortened it just as they both sat down across each other. They had both carried their own briefcases, and their smiles, as unwarranted as their goals were in the moment, didn¡¯t separate from each other very much. ¡°So,¡± Aread said, ¡°perhaps it¡¯s best if we can address each other by something. Perhaps by name, rather than occupation?¡± ¡°Sure,¡± the man said. ¡°Well, I shall go first then, if you don¡¯t mind. I¡¯m Aread. Some people pronounce it differently after they¡¯ve seen my name written, but it¡¯s just very simple pronunciation.¡± ¡°I see,¡± the man said. ¡°Obviously, but my name hasn¡¯t quite left the joke chamber for others as well.¡± He laughed, and the laughter was a little abrasive for Aread to take note. There was a pause again, and Aread wasn¡¯t sure exactly what to do. Then the man spoke. ¡°You can address me as Bose,¡± he said. ¡°Bose Litnum.¡± A lasting, lingering smile. ¡°Bose? That¡¯s a cool name,¡± Aread said, leaning forward in his seat. His fingers clutched tight to his briefcase. ¡°Well then, Bose, let''s get down to business.¡± Klara Klara was late. Distinguishably late from a perspective outside of her occupation, but late nonetheless. Being late generally meant one of two things: that the target had been given enough time to take charge and flee even if they are flat-footed; or that the target may not suspect a thing and still be left stranded when hunters had come for them. Klara was counting on the latter to be true. The jet had managed to catch Bose¡¯s ship just before it left off from the tail of it¡¯s radar, and Klara was sure with her own eyes that she had indeed seen Bose land his ship down on a random slab of rock, separated by no other planet, on Fresnic¡¯s Bar. Weird, she figured, how a reputable gem collector and curator like Bose would come to Fresnic¡¯s Bar for any reason at all, rather than open his house so that everyone else could come in and sit on one of those big red couches. It wasn¡¯t a random attempt at getting back on the hunter, she was sure, but when Bose would decide to land in a place that wasn¡¯t his home planet or a neighbouring planet that had been scorned to death by him, then there was a problem. Klara liked juicy problems, only if they didn¡¯t detract from the main mission. They usually entailed at length the risks she¡¯d have to make prior to capturing or assassinating a target, but now it wasn¡¯t just. Klara also liked that there would be complications to adapt to. It had made her a better hunter, a better sworn killer, and for the most part, being able to conquer most unconquerable missions. Her mentality was that as long as there was a mountain, it had to be climbed. That¡¯s why a mountain was there in the first place. The resources were there to be had, the height was there to be scaled. She just needed to put her heart, soul and time at it and before long, she would get there just like anybody else. While she had indeed placed her heart and soul into it, time was always hard to factor in. Sooner or later, she was going to run out of time. Sooner or later, she was going to lose the last ever attempt at getting at Serro, and her revenge plan would have been for naught. All this while and all this time, like a sandcastle built upon what she thought was solid bricks, crumbling into the pile just like before. All the effort, drained like blood being extracted from a syringe, dumped into the waste. That¡¯s why she had made such a good pair with Czyrian, or as she thought, a good pair in her head. Czyrian was the burning star for Klara, and on missions like these, where firm ideals and strong decisions had to be made, it was the only way to sort out the weak and stick to the plan. But with her gone, she was starting to feel the essence fleeting. No, Klara told herself. I¡¯m not going to fall like everyone else. The jet had landed safely and into an empty space of the parking lot at Fresnic¡¯s Bar. She had made sure that nobody had seen her, whether with her Purple Thorn outfit on or her face out in the open, and ducked her way out from the backdoor of the jet. Klara wasn¡¯t going to be reckless. Czyrian wasn¡¯t here anymore, and she was left alone to deal with a predicament that needed the two of them. No worries, Klara thought. The dichotomy between dealing with a predicament of two people rather than one was that it was always more likely for the other party to mess up when dealing with any situation. That wasn¡¯t why Klara always went solo on her missions though. She was just focused on getting to Serro Crane and nobody else, she knew had the same kind of hatred for the abusive leader in the upper regions of the galaxy. Czyrian being here would have been a major help for Klara. It would have been what they both wanted, what they both needed to deal with. Can¡¯t keep working at it. She''s safe, or so she thought. Czyrian was one of the best hunters that Klara has ever known. She passed her tribunals with almost perfect scores, nabbed more targets than a majority of hunters, but no more than Klara, and she had the same burning determination. It was a no-brainer that Czyrian was going to be safe. She knew how to defend herself, and in this galaxy, where ships can bring out guns whenever they wished, it was a good skill to have. In order to get her mission back on track, she needed a solid plan. Klara snuck out from the jet, and into another ship that had been parked at the lots. Her eyes roamed like hyenas searching for food, and then widened when she saw what she was looking for: Little Numb. The small jet-sized ship that packed a hell of an engine sat near the end of the parking lot. No mistakes. Klara shifted through the darkness, dashing from cover to cover in fear of being spotted from inside Little Numb. She had surveyed the ship up close. Other than the front windows, Little Numb had two other windows on both sides of the ship. Fortunately, there weren¡¯t any rear windows. Klara had done her homework against Bose. It was needed to take him down, and any other fool that tried it without doing the necessary work would have gone down in the galaxy history books as a failure and an idiot. Her name would have been in one of them had she not done it. From far, Little Numb seemed like a normal ship. Slightly larger than a few scout ships combined, and with wings that enabled easy endeavours when going into a debri-filled space. But when Klara had managed to come within touching distance of the ship, she could see that there were engaged touch sensors throughout the ship. Bose was careful with intruders. After all, he dealt with special gems and crystals that could fetch for insane prices. Any thief would walk away with big money even if he were to collect only one of them. But, as Klara could read with her hunter instincts, those sensors were switched off. How... Klara tiptoed around the ship, still avoiding the windows and potential cameras if there ever was one. It was hard to tell if a person was still inside a ship or not, but Klara had her own ways of figuring it out. For example, touch sensors being immediately on and being used as a way to detect for intruders was a clear sign that someone had left the ship. Not this case. Next, it would be the windows, but Klara was sure that some people used it differently. For some, their windows would be closed and shuttered well, discouraging people from peeking and possibly locating items worth of value and then shattering the clear glass to get to it. Little Numb¡¯s curtains had been pulled back, this proved to be a head scratcher for Klara. She was sure that a dealer with as big a reputation like Bose would have thought of every possibility to not have his special Little Numb broken into like every other normal human being who ever owned a spaceship. Still, she wasn¡¯t complaining, but it was confusing for Klara. She followed the next trail to figure out if Bose was still in the vehicle, and so she looked before she darted to the entrance of the ship, careful not to kick up dust or leave a trail for her enemies to find. When Klara had reached the closed doors, her thoughts of Bose being present had fled her mind. He wasn¡¯t there, but¡­ Something else was. Or rather, someone else. The footprints found along the floor had yet to be covered. With the breeze, as she felt along her skin, the hard prints would have definitely been overturned when the dust had landed causing it to cover the tracks so it wouldn¡¯t reveal much of Bose¡¯s location. He hadn¡¯t left very far. Klara had known too much about Bose, probably even more than the dealer knew about himself. She knew that Bose was probably right in the bar, his hands to his lips or hands to a separate briefcase that wasn¡¯t him, handing cold hard cash to the seeker that he would purchase a high quality gem from, and be on his way. After all, in the galaxy, Bose was known as a rare gem collector. But to those who knew him, knew that he manipulated prices and resorted to cheap tactics to get the gems. He had his own convention, and Klara was aware. She had initially thought that Bose would be heading there, right down on Calderac, but instead he seemed to be dealing with one more gem or treasure before heading to the Scarlet Skies. And that¡¯s going to be his galaxy-ridden downfall. The arrogant, gem collector of the- CLINK. Klara heard bottles as they fell to the ground from inside the ship. Could it be¡­? Impossible. The hunter wielded her claw-hook gun and approached the doors. She had been trained to adapt to situations on the fly. If an enemy ambushed you, or if you sense an ambush anyway, she would be prepared to fight. Now was the moment. She stepped closer towards the doors of the ship, slightly pushing it open, revealing dark rooms, a darker cockpit, and rumbling lights from deeper inside the ship. Klara wielded her dagger on the other hand, and stepped closer and closer. From inside, she could see that the light was pulsating from within a room. She grabbed her dagger tight and her gun tighter. She tapped the gem on her neck, and it burned softly in the dark room. Klara half-turned to look inside the room, and her eyes immediately went to the figure standing in the center. And she had recognised immediately who it was. Czyrian. ¡°What the galaxy-ridden?!¡± Klara said as she stopped raising her weapons. Czyrian, her cloak turned and her eyes wider than the other hunter¡¯s, gave Klara a disappointing look. What the shit?! She was back on the ship? What was she doing here? And why didn¡¯t she tell me? ¡°Klara?¡± Czyrian said, stopping to drop the bag of whatever it was that she was holding. As clearly seen by Klara, Czyrian was in a room full of gems and crystals, and her partner was now the thief. Ensure your favorite authors get the support they deserve. Read this novel on the original website. ¡°What the hell are you doing?¡± Klara asked. ¡°You¡¯re, no, we¡¯re supposed to be chasing Bose!¡± Czyrian nodded helplessly, but Klara knew exactly what her partner was trying to do. Take no shit, take no prisoners. Screw any betrayers, screw any idiots who think that they can try and get away with it. If they live, they will do it again. ¡°Explain yourself!¡± Klara said, training the gun on her, the dagger reflecting what little light there was to her partner. ¡°There¡¯s no easy way to say this,¡± Czyrian said. ¡°Then just galaxy-ridden say it anyway. What, didn¡¯t the academy train you to be firm and steady in your approach? Or was that an excuse for you to not be better?¡± ¡°That¡¯s not the point.¡± ¡°You¡¯re just a coward, that¡¯s what you are.¡± Steady. Now you¡¯re losing your shit. You give her the upper-hand and it¡¯s all over. ¡°I¡¯m far from a galaxy-ridden coward,¡± Czyrian said, her voice growing louder. ¡°And I¡¯m not taking shit from you no more.¡± Czyrian unsheathed her pistol and grabbed whatever crystals and gems she could that were lying around. ¡°And you¡¯re just leaving, calling it quits just like that? That¡¯s why you¡¯re a coward,¡± Klara said. She wasn¡¯t going to back down. Czyrian scoffed. It was a first for the hunter. Pathetic smile. ¡°You¡¯re going after the biggest piece of shit in the galaxy, the conquerer of planets, and you think you and me alone is enough to stop him? You¡¯re brighter than a lightbulb. You should know this more than anyone,¡± Czyrian said. ¡°Right, so you¡¯re ditching this shit because whatever you said was a lie after all,¡± Klara said. Lie after lie, full-speed without stopping. Czyrian walked straight up to Klara, their chin barely touching each other. ¡°Killing Serro was your big plan, not mine. I came along because I thought you were determined to get what you want. What I now know is that I can get much more here.¡± Czyrian pointed to the bag of gems and crystals that she was holding. ¡°See this? This is the prize, not Serro Crane. Not Bose Litnum. This is enough to get me through years and decades of my next life.¡± Klara grabbed her partner¡¯s arm tightly. ¡°When the sunfire war comes, you¡¯ll suffer too.¡± ¡°You speak about this ¡®sunfire war¡¯ as if it¡¯s going to happen.¡± ¡°It will.¡± ¡°Then let it. I¡¯m not afraid.¡± Czyrian pulled her arm away. Klara watched for a moment, her mind caught in two places at once. You¡¯re going to go, just like that? What am I, if nothing for someone that can¡¯t even stand up for herself? Shit. Galaxy-ridden shit. ¡°How about this?¡± Klara said as Czyrian continued walking. ¡°We take down Bose inside, and you can have everything else you want.¡± ¡°You can take him down yourself,¡± Czyrian said, leaping off Little Numb. Galaxy-ridden shit, Klara thought as she followed Czyrian. Outside, the cold air still took embrace on the hunter¡¯s skin. She watched as Czyrian boarded her nearby mini scout ship that she must¡¯ve stolen from Bose¡¯s ship. After all, that must have been how she got to him. Not only that, she must¡¯ve also stolen the remaining gems and crystals she could on Dieragon. But all of that didn¡¯t matter for now. Czyrian betrayed her trust, betrayed their working relationship, and didn¡¯t give a shit about Serro at all. Things come at a cost. And I need to be able to do it. Shit. Klara raised her gun and trained it on Czyrian as she opened up the doors to her ship. I can¡¯t kill her. Klara struggled. What do you mean you can¡¯t kill her? Of course you can! She just betrayed you! She lowers her gun and raises it all at once. But she was a partner. She was a good partner! She allowed me to escape from Dieragon! Klara shook her head. But now she¡¯s no longer a partner, she¡¯s no longer a friend, and she never had a vested interest in killing Serro at all. Leave her around and she¡¯s going to come back and haunt you. You¡¯ll regret not killing her. You¡¯ll regret it. Klara primed her gun even more closely. Did Czyrian deserve to die? Probably. But was it worth to cause a ruckus? As Czyrian entered into her ship, Klara made up her mind. She primed her gun closely on her partner, and then with a quick trigger just as the doors were closing, she pulled the trigger. SHOT! The claw-hook flew forward and fast, striking into the bag that Czyrian was holding. Immediately, the gems and crystals spilled out from the cut and flowed out onto the ground. CLINK! The claw-hook shot itself out of Czyrian¡¯s ship and back to the handle that contained it with Klara. As the doors shut, Czyrian¡¯s eyes widened at the flowing gems and crystals, and then back at Klara, who had a slight grin on her face. Klara stepped forward, towards the gems and crystals, and raised her feet up high. SMASH! The gem cracked open like a split melon as her foot came back down. Czyrian¡¯s eyes popped even wider, about to burst out of her very own eyes. Klara could even hear her partner¡¯s wraith-like cry. Not enough. SMASH! SMASH! SMASH! Klara stepped on all of them, and like blood and ooze, the crystals cracked a silver glow and spilled out even further. The engines on Czyrian''s ship turned on anyway as she prepared to leave. That¡¯s right. You better galaxy-ridden run. Run away from here like the little coward you are. Run towards the sun, run towards-- Up above, blinking lights began to form from a nearby sector. Klara squinted her eyes. It can¡¯t¡­ be? Klara thought. It had to be, but why are they here? Why are they here now? ¡°Shit,¡± Klara said under her breath. There was no choice, and time was running out. She turned towards the bar. Her mind running on fumes, picking up where she was supposed to continue, and equipped her claw-hook gun. Now was the time to face Bose. Aread Follow the plan, Aread, the seeker thought to himself. Follow the plan. ¡°So,¡± Bose said to Aread. ¡°Must¡¯ve been a hard task, wasn¡¯t it?¡± He knows exactly what he¡¯s doing, but I don¡¯t know why he wants the stupid information. Is he trying to delay me? Is he trying to play some mind games that I hadn¡¯t played before? Shit. He¡¯s looking at me like a sly fox. Let¡¯s smile at him, then. Smile wide. ¡°Anything that¡¯s worth a few grand in credits is always a hard task, and honestly, this crystal was no different. In fact, this crystal is probably worth a few hundred combined. Though, I must say that I still don¡¯t understand why you¡¯ve got an infatuation with this crystal?¡± Aread asked. My turn to play the game. ¡°Things have complications,¡± Bose said calmly, ¡°and in my area of expertise, that¡¯s how we deal with complications.¡± ¡°With gems and crystals?¡± Bose laughed. ¡°Of course, to make this a less of a jumbled mess, by complications I mean when my gems and crystals go missing.¡± Missing? ¡°Well, aren¡¯t you a terrible collector if that¡¯s the case," Aread said, swiping to an invisible cup. Shit, no coffee. Alright, act cool. Act cool. Bose laughed again, this time slightly louder and coughing right at the end. What a good show he¡¯s putting on. ¡°See, I¡¯m not just a collector. I¡¯m a curator as well. I have a show, in fact, that if you¡¯re interested you could come down and see for yourself the gems and crystals that I have," Bose said, calm and collected. The curator placed one hand into his pockets, fidgeted around and pulled out a name card and placed it on the counter. Aread squinted to look at it. He couldn''t make out the words so he picked the card up to read it. BOSE ERATTON LITNUM Gem collector, curator Other details include his contact number, his temporary address to find all of his wares, and most importantly, his next and upcoming parade where he will be showcasing his new set of gemstones: The Great Gem Convention at Luberium Gardens. Though, the location of the convention was what made Aread look twice. Calderac. ... Home. What a galaxy-ridden coincidence¡­ ¡°So, how about it?¡± Bose said, smiling brightly. He thinks he¡¯s gotten his points across. He thinks he¡¯s gotten it all. He¡¯s not wrong, though. His alibi is straightforward, and there doesn¡¯t seem to be anything discrediting him as a collector or as a curator. But something still seems off¡­ Aread placed the card into his jacket pocket. He wasn¡¯t sure why he¡¯d keep something like that, but a sign of gesture was a sign of gesture. ¡°So, you¡¯re going there to set-up this convention? You¡¯re doing this alone? No helpers, nothing?¡± he asked. Bose burst into immediate laughter at the question. ¡°Why ever would I want helpers, Mr. Sears? So that they could have a chance of leeching off the profits that I make? I¡¯m living the dream that I have built for myself. And last I checked, it¡¯s my dream, I¡¯m the architect,¡± he said. ¡°Well, then you must be quite the architect, wouldn¡¯t you say? Surely carrying all these gems with you must be a pain in the ass. I¡¯m sure I know, after carrying all sorts of different gems for other people,¡± Aread said. ¡°It¡¯s fine, I¡¯m not judging you or anything, really. After all, I just want to get this over and done with.¡± ¡°You and me both, Mr. Sears,¡± Bose said. ¡°Really, just call me Aread.¡± ¡°Sure, Aread. If you don¡¯t mind, perhaps you could show me the crystal.¡± There! Aread thought. I galaxy-ridden knew it. All clients with their ¡®seeker show first policy¡¯. What a load of galaxy shit! ¡°See,¡± Aread said, shaking his head, ¡°we¡¯re going to have to do this together, or it¡¯s a big, big no go. You understand? I''m not in the meddling business, and I suppose you''ve brought what we''ve dealt.¡± ¡°Of course,¡± Bose said. ¡°I¡¯m sure if I was in your shoes I would like to see the credits too, and I¡¯m being a little not-so impartial here. I apologize.¡± Damn right. ¡°But so far,¡± Bose continued, ¡°it seems that you¡¯re a trustworthy seeker.¡± ¡°Am I?¡± Aread said. Puckering? Don¡¯t make me laugh. ¡°You¡¯re early, you seem to know how the seeker game works, and you¡¯ve probably got what I want. I think my deduction would be rendered correct.¡± Sucker. ¡°I think that you, too, have the credits I¡¯m looking for,¡± Aread said. ¡°Yes,¡± Bose said, tapping his briefcase on the table. ¡°Cold, hard credits.¡± I prefer saying ¡®cash¡¯ instead of ¡®credits¡¯ in that phrase, but whatever. ¡°How about this? Since we trust each other, we could both pass the briefcases at the same time over. Wouldn¡¯t that make sense?¡± Aread said. Bose thought for a moment. Wait. Did I just shoot myself in the foot with an invisible gun? My future is on the line here, and I may have just passed up an opportunity to make sure that it was tangible, and that it was real. Aread still had a lot to lose from this exchange if done blindly. But, something had told him that perhaps it was the best way. Trust, Aread thought. He was so close to getting there. Just this deal, the last one, to get him through and live his life back on Calderac. With his mother, with his younger brother, with¡­ ¡­Rosie. ¡°Are you sure?¡± Bose asked. Aread nodded, having made up his mind. ¡°We¡¯ll do it together.¡± Bose nodded. ¡°Fine by me.¡± Both men waited, and then, simultaneously pushed their respective briefcases to one another. The exchange was quick, and in a matter of seconds they were both holding the other¡¯s briefcase now. Big breath, Aread told himself. Hold it in. Hold it. And¡­ Aread cracked the briefcase open. ...Release. Aread watched as the stack of 500,000 credits lay there silently in the contents of the suitcase. It was here, it was bright, it was his future. He¡¯d dreamt it and dreamt it, and now it was here. The risk of being a seeker, leaving home a young individual to chase a dream that had shoved him back time and time again, and it was here. He couldn¡¯t quite believe it. Though, the price had increased. The crystal that Aread stole was worth more because of how difficult it was to both enter, steal and escape with the crystal from the jaws and traps that Dread King had placed in his ship. He deserved top dollar for his efforts, and he got more than he deserved. Bose sat agasp as well when he had opened up the case to reveal the white crystal and the white brimming essence. The crystal sat firmly in the briefcase that Aread had carried. Unlike the seeker, it seemed that Bose was the only one who was actually able to feel it. It was indeed tangible and raw. Gems, gemstones and crystals were, after all, Bose¡¯s specialty. He could always see whatever it was behind the curtains of the powered gem, and from there, allow himself a grasp or a touch. Of course, this crystal is different. He wasn''t the one who was going to ultimately end up with the crystal. He was just there as a service for the man at the very top. ¡°The Cadellite Crystal,¡± Bose said, decidedly hovering his fingers around it, gently feeling what could have been had he decided to touch it. Aread watched as his client slowly pushed his hand closer towards the crystal. ¡°You don¡¯t want to touch it with your bare hands,¡± he said. ¡°The crystal can melt it.¡± ¡°But this is it, isn''t it?¡± Bose asked, his mouth hanging wide open that a squirrel could probably fit through. ¡°No fancy games, no rudimentary paint, no way for it to be¡­¡± Bose softened, searching for a word he couldn''t quite form at the top of his tongue. ¡°Fake?¡± Aread said, completing the sentence for him. ¡°Yes,¡± Bose said, struggling to get the words out. ¡°Fake. But it''s not, is it?¡± ¡°I¡¯m sure you¡¯re not the only man with a reputation to lose between us, Bose. You do realise how detrimental this would be to me if I decided to paint it in white and lie to you? It would do no good to me.¡± Bose nodded. ¡°But this is good. It¡¯s real.¡± Aread seemed confused. ¡°Well, that¡¯s because it is real.¡± ¡°I believe it,¡± Bose said. ¡°You don¡¯t have to, it¡¯s real.¡± ¡°Sure,¡± Bose said, finally letting it settle within him. There was a pause, and the seeker wasn¡¯t sure if it was right for him to speak. So he just did it anyway. ¡°I guess that¡¯s it then,¡± Aread said, still dumbfounded at the amount of credits now hanging in his pockets. ¡°Pleasure doing--¡± ¡°--Pleasure doing business with you,¡± Bose interrupted, nerves shaking. ¡°Perhaps you won¡¯t ever have to dabble in this business again or even deal with it anymore, do you?¡± Aread nodded. His lips went wide, about to open, before he realised that there was no point in speaking to Bose about his plan, or what his future held. The crystal was the final piece in the puzzle, one large piece, really, but a puzzle piece nonetheless, and he could finally fit it in where it belonged. ¡°I hope you don¡¯t mind me saying this, but I hope I don¡¯t see you ever again,¡± Aread said, smiling as he gathered his thoughts. ¡°Me too,¡± Bose said, lowering his top hat and making his way out of the populated bar and to the backdoor. He had disappeared as fast as he entered. Aread held the briefcase close to his chest as he sat a second longer. Never before had there been such a rush of overwhelming relief and comfort. This was a career and life first for him, and he wished it would never end. Everything was better now. The lights were brighter. He didn¡¯t mind the cold. Everything is better. He stood and stepped towards the entrance, jogging his memory of his life back on Calderac, and anticipating a new arrival back home. It was all coming to him. Being a seeker was the risk after all. It was the only way to live the life that I¡¯ve wanted. Aread grabbed the cold handles of the door, ready to step outside and return home. It was the only way-- SLAM! Aread braced for a large kick as the door swung inwards, sending him flying and crashing into nearby tables and chairs. The briefcase tumbled around him, cracking open as the credits spilled out onto the floor. ¡°What the?!¡± Aread said aloud, getting up to defend himself but feeling his back bent like a backward ballet dancer that couldn¡¯t quite bend back. He caught the briefcase that was given to him, and the credits, and then -- WHAT?! Aread¡¯s eyes nearly popped out of their sockets. Not only were there not 500,000 cold hard credits, but the credits of tiny pieces were now instantly shimmering from just the reflection of the barlights. Impossible! Aread had checked it, he had opened it, had scrutinised it. But he made a mistake, a rookie one. A seeker should¡¯ve always inspected the briefcase and the contents clearly before shaking the shaking of hands. It was the future, he thought. The future lead him to believe that it was okay. The future pushed him into acquiring it. Now, the same future was¡­ gone. Bose had cheated him of his money and walked away with the Cadellite Crystal. The crystal that he had risked his entire career to get, and yet he was on the end of the short-stick. Galaxy-ridden shit! The purple figure, standing in the doorway ignored Aread as she ran past him and straight to the backdoor. Even as she ran past him, it was enough for Aread to get a clean look at her. The glow in the necklace, the cloak, the claw-hook gun that resided in her hand. Shit, Aread thought. It''s the Purple Thorn. Klara No, no, no, no, no! Klara was late. Again! She raced past the fallen figure whom she didn''t even try to look at and headed for the backdoor, but when she tried to forcefully break open the knob, she realised that it was locked. The small window on the door allowed her to see Bose walking away, once more, like it had never been easier. Like there wasn¡¯t even anyone chasing him. Like Klara wasn¡¯t even there. She watched him, unable to do anything as he entered into Little Numb, as the doors closed behind him. Once again, so close and yet so far¡­ Shit. Shit, shit, shit¡­ shit! Klara turned back towards the figure now, her eyes staring right into his soul, intent on getting answers. She ran back, gathering pace, leapt off the ground and slammed her knee right into his chest. JAM! The man managed to get one word out. "OUUUCHH!" In a swift strike, Klara pulled him over and threw him right down onto the floor. Broken back, meet floor. ¡°Tell me,¡± Klara said, keeping his hands pulled with one stomping foot and another right on top of his chest to limit any movement, ¡°where the hell did Bose Litnum go?!¡± The man, as she could see much clearly now with the weapon and the rather despondent look, was a seeker. Made sense for Bose to be in contact with seekers. That was his job after all. The seeker looked lost or in pain, and Klara couldn¡¯t quite decipher which based on his lucid expression. She let off on keeping him tied down on the ground. But not too much. ¡°Galaxy-ridden¡­!¡± The seeker yelled when she gently pulled back her feet. ¡°What the hell are you trying to do?! You¡¯re attacking the wrong guy!¡± ¡°You just made a deal with him, didn¡¯t you? Tell me, what the hell did you trade for all these fake credits?¡± The seeker was struggling even more, which made less sense with Klara¡¯s knee eating off on the pressing. She allowed a little more room for the seeker to breathe. After all, he was giving her the answers she needed. ¡°A Cadellite Crystal!¡± The seeker shouted. ¡°A Cadellite Crystal? What is that?¡± ¡°Now,¡± the seeker said, barely holding on, ¡°if you want to ask questions, you can always do it the easy way¡­!¡± Klara waited for an answer, but the seeker didn¡¯t answer. If I just let him off all the way¡­ perhaps he¡¯ll talk, Klara thought. After all, right now, he is the only one capable of leading me to Bose. Klara slowly let the seeker recover, letting his hands loose slightly. Thereafter, he managed to crawl back up from the floor to a sitting position, staring back with one hand on his chest. ¡°Spit it, seeker. The crystal. What the hell¡¯s it for?¡± Klara said, swinging out her claw-hook gun and then lowering it beneath his chin. ¡°It¡¯s a powering crystal,¡± the seeker said. ¡°I don¡¯t know what¡¯s it for, but you could use it in any dangerous situation. Powering up your gear, your vehicles, a superweapon. All kinds of shit,¡± he said. ¡°Where did you get it?¡± ¡°I¡¯m not supposed to reveal that kind of information. I¡¯ve got seeker¡¯s code.¡± ¡°Screw seeker¡¯s code,¡± Klara said, giving him a generous tight slap across his face. ¡°I need galaxy-ridden answers now!¡± ¡°Okay,¡± the seeker said, his expression grimacing. ¡°You¡¯re really pissing me off.¡± ¡°Good, because I¡¯m not leaving here until I¡¯m done with getting everything I need,¡± she said. ¡°Well, have you gotten that thing off from the floor behind you?¡± Klara stopped. She turned to check what the seeker had said, and just as she figured, there was nothing. She turned back to him. ¡°Listen here, you little-¡± BAM! The seeker delivered a solid right hook to Klara¡¯s face, and now she was the one sent tumbling. CRASH! Klara picked up herself off from the ground. No, I can¡¯t lose to this galaxy-ridden seeker. Klara caught herself before she fell to the floor and recovered right back to face the seeker. ¡°Watch out, chairwoman!¡± the seeker yelled as a chair was hurled straight at Klara. With a full move, she swung her claw-hook upwards and sliced the chair apart. SHING! The halves of the chair flew behind her and crashed into the counter of the bar. It would¡¯ve been easy, Klara thought, if there was only one. But there wasn¡¯t. The seeker had thrown three chairs in quick succession, and after dealing with the first chair, Klara couldn¡¯t quite have the strength nor the stamina to deal with them all. She ducked out of the way before one of them could reach her, but when she did, it was possibly the worst mistake she ever made. Oh no. With the seeker¡¯s rocket-powered boots, he flew like an old-time superhero and collided into Klara, taking her and himself right through the window. CRASH! The window crashed right open as the hunter and seeker both rolled out into the dirt outside. The smoke from the dust and the broken window pieces formed around them. Before Klara could see properly what the hell was going, she could feel a heavy grip tightening around her arm and rolling her over, face-down, as her arms were pulled together into a cross before she could feel the cuffs grabbing hold onto her. Shit. What''s happening?! When Klara cleared up her eyes, she could see the seeker being cuffed too, and what seemed to be four red-suited men walked around with red plasma guns. These men looked like an argument away from killing her and the seeker, but she wasn¡¯t going to let that slide. ¡°What the hell are you doing?!¡± Klara shouted as she was pulled violently off the ground. ¡°Let me go!¡± Two red men in masks, which looked more and more like troopers of a mafia gang, proceeded to bring up the seeker and bring him up on his feet. These men looked to be in bad business, but Klara wasn¡¯t afraid. She had dealt with men like them before, and now, it was no different. Except, she wasn¡¯t able to fight properly after getting her hands cuffed. The troopers carried the hunter and the seeker together, and they met eye-to-eye. Disgusting. ¡°You called the Dread King¡¯s men?!" The seeker yelled. "Galaxy-ridden shit! I thought you were a lone wolf!¡± During that yelling, Klara could feel spit dripping from her face. ¡°Wow,¡± Klara said. ¡°You really think I¡¯d call in Dread King and tell him about you failing at your job, at being a galaxy-ridden seeker?! Maybe I should¡¯ve.¡± ¡°Maybe if you caught whoever the hell you were trying to catch, you¡¯d be an expert at answering your own questions!¡± A trooper entered between them. ¡°Both of you shut up,¡± he said. He gestured to his men to bring the two troublemakers inside. Before them, a big ship sat in the parking lot. The ship itself probably took up more space than three other ships of its own size, but Klara was in awe of what the hell she was looking at. When she had a closer look at the sides of the ship, she then realised that it was a convoy ship. And then, beside it, two other smaller ships flanked it. Among them, what seemed to be a highly decorated personal ship was being carried in red lantern lights. Galaxy-ridden¡­ Klara thought. Prisoners. ¡°Really?¡± the seeker said to one of the guards, being dragged inside the ship as soon as the door opened. ¡°You sent the big ship for me?¡± ¡°For you and her,¡± the trooper said, throwing them down onto the floor. There were two rows of benches lined up on either side of the interior, but he couldn¡¯t care less whether the hunter and seeker did find a seat or didn¡¯t. The only thing he cared about was that his job was done. Klara couldn¡¯t believe her luck. It seemed as though each moment was getting worse and worse, and there may never be a ceiling for her stupid situation. Galaxy-ridden Bose.. Galaxy-ridden Serro... ¡°We¡¯re going to do a clean sweep and get everything, valuable or not. All you two need to do is to hang tight, and think about what you want to say when you meet him,¡± the trooper said. ¡°Him?¡± Klara said, looking up at the leaving guard. ¡°Dread King. Who else would it be?¡± the trooper said. ¡°I was thinking more of your father, but--¡± The trooper scoffed at the seeker before he could finish and slammed his fist twice on the side of the ship. The doors proceeded to slam shut, and the last sight of the outside stars was the trooper and his red rotten mask and the black blanket behind him. Now, Klara was alone with the seeker, and no matter what she did, she couldn¡¯t shake off the fact that Bose had gotten away. Again. ¡°This is your fault,¡± the seeker said as he got up and took a seat by the side. ¡°Really? I see that you¡¯re still acting like a big boy,¡± Klara said as she took a seat across the seeker. ¡°Don¡¯t you ever call me a galaxy-ridden big boy,¡± he said. ¡°I¡¯ll call you whatever the hell I want,¡± she said, ¡°big boy.¡± A voice spoke through the speakers from the cockpit. ¡°Yeah, this is the guy from before. Just wanted to give you a heads-up: Dread King¡¯s awaiting your arrival with much anticipation. I¡¯ve got a call that he¡¯s going to offer you two something you can¡¯t ever refuse. Not because there¡¯s another choice for you, but because genuinely, there isn¡¯t. Bye!¡± Klara stared at the seeker as the convoy ship prepared for take-off. This was going to be a long ride.