The Starhawk Chronicles Read online

  “Well, I certainly hope it improves your playing ability.”

  If Podo heard the jibe, he chose to ignore it. “Bokschh said to notify you. We’ve got a call for another hunt.”

  Jesse sighed, rubbing the bridge of his nose with both hands as he felt a sudden headache forming behind his eyes. “Tell Bokschh to turn it down. I think we all deserve a few days rest.”

  “I told him that would be your answer, but he said to call you anyway. This is a real big one. We could be pulling down as much as a half-million credits.”

  The announcement stunned Jesse into silence for a moment. Jesse looked at Sneaker who, despite the lack of facial expressions—or lack of a face for that matter— still somehow managed to look surprised. Jesse looked back to his commband. “Did I hear you right? Did you say a half-million?”

  “That’s what Guildmaster Nord said,” Podo replied. “We’ve got His Bulkiness on the holo now, waiting to talk to you.”

  Jesse was impressed and let out a small whistle that Sneaker’s own ululating trill echoed. It was rare indeed that the head of the Hunters Guild put out the call himself. That alone told Jesse the offer was serious, and not just another one of Podo’s jokes. “I’ll catch the nearest cab. Have Bokschh contact the city central computer and do traffic reroute. I’ll leave my signal open so you can track me.”

  There was a pause on the other end, almost a full minute long, and Jesse thought he could hear muffled voices arguing before Podo finally replied with a sigh. “Bokschh says to remind you of . . .” His voice took on the precise clipped tones that Bokschh spoke in. Jesse could almost hear Podo’s eyes rolling. “Galactic Ordinance three-nine-eight dash seven-two-two which specifically bans the use of central computer access for use by private parties.”

  “Tell Bokschh they can fine us all they want. I am coming back now.”

  “I told him you’d say that, so I took the liberty of already locking on to your commband signal.” Jesse could picture the smirk on the Warwick’s face. “Just grab a cab.”

  Stepping to the curb, Jesse whistled. In seconds, another drone cab pulled up before him. Up ahead, he could see the other vehicles pulling to the side of the street, clearing the way for him. With a grin, Jesse slid into the passenger seat, Sneaker settling beside him, and the cab raced for the spaceport.

  Chapter Four

  The Starhawk was an old and ugly ship. Its gunmetal hull was scarred and pitted by decades of use and abuse, patched in spots where it had taken damage from meteor showers and space battles. To an outsider, it seemed a miracle it could even get off the ground.

  From the viewports on the Starhawk’s bridge, Kym Tirannis kept watch on the starship pad. She used one hand to brush long strands of her curly, flame-red hair out of her dark brown eyes while pressing for the ramp release with the other. The same age as Jesse, the Starhawk’s engineer was an attractive young woman, and would have been considered even more so if her face was not perpetually smudged with grease or coolant or some other by-product from her work on the ship’s engines. She turned to face the others, moving easily in bulky, dark blue coveralls laden with tools. “K’Tran’s coming in now.”

  “It is about time. We cannot keep Guildmaster Nord waiting much longer. He is not a patient man.” Bokschh replied from beside the center command chair. The former military procurement drone had served with K’Tran and Thom Forster during the Harkonian War a quarter-century earlier. Thom later rescued him from decommissioning after the war had ended. His considerable talents went to work for them as they started out in the trade of bounty hunting. The drone’s trademark list to his left, due to his left leg being several centimeters shorter than the other, gave the impression that it was ready to topple over at any minute. It also gave it a pronounced limp when it walked.

  “Relax, Tin Man,” Jesse scolded as he leaned back in his command chair, his jacket and holsters abandoned now; the sleeves of his tunic rolled high on his arms. “The Guildmaster can hold a minute more.”

  A few moments later, the bridge hatch slid open and K’Tran stepped in. “Pay day!” He held the credit voucher up for all to see, stopping short at the sight of his captain there ahead of him.

  “Get stuck in traffic?”

  K’Tran glared. “You rerouted the traffic patterns again, didn’t you? Don’t mess with an old man’s head.”

  “Take a seat, old man,” Podo chimed in from the communications console. “The show’s about to begin.”

  “What show? What’s he talking about?”

  “We’ve got a call from Guildmaster Nord himself,” Jesse said, raising an eyebrow for dramatic effect. “Podo, if you’ll please put the Guildmaster on the holo.”

  Podo’s paws danced across the controls and the bridge holo-comm system hummed to life. In the center of the bridge, the full-scale, three-dimensional image of Guildmaster Nord flickered into existence.

  Jesse did not consider himself a prejudiced man. He firmly believed in treating all races with respect regarding their customs, cultures and appearances. However, every time Jesse looked upon a Drassian, he could not help but conjure up the thought of a large eggplant with tentacles. The appearance was deceiving. Roughly a meter tall at adulthood, they were covered in fine hair that ran through the entire spectrum of colors, but their tentacles were almost always a drab green. Drassians were fast and agile, making good use of their tentacles to propel themselves effortlessly across land or water. They were surprisingly graceful, despite their ungainly appearance, and respected for their business savvy and formidable fighting skills.

  “Hello, Guildmaster,” Jesse forced as much false cheerfulness into his voice as he could muster. “How are the wife and hatchlings?”

  Nord’s image looked directly at Jesse, fine blue hair standing up in small spikes atop his head. He leaned forward, his image distorting as he leaned too close to his holo-comm transmitter, and stabbed a holographic tentacle at Jesse in the same motion. “I do not like to be kept waiting, Captain.”

  “Apologies, sir. We’ve been a little busy. I thought you’d like to know we just collected the bounty on Aril Krebs.”

  Nord waved a second tentacle, dismissing the comment. “Small fish. I’ve got a far tougher job in store for you, and I’ll tell you now,” a third tentacle stabbed out from somewhere behind him. “If you were not specifically requested for this hunt, I would not have considered you for it. There are a dozen other hunter groups I would much rather see this assigned to. But as I said, it is a high-priority request.”

  Everyone’s eyebrows rose at the mention of the request. “High priority? Who commissioned us?”

  Nord ignored the question and pushed on. “There’s been an escape from the Stenax prison asteroid. Ten inmates in all. The Nexus Gang.”

  God, no. Not now. Not so soon. Jesse’s stomach twisted itself into a knot and a wave of nausea swept over him. The dreams have finally stopped.

  He struggled to keep his features neutral, though his fingernails were cutting into the padded arms of his seat. The nausea increased and his head was swimming now. “I thought Stenax was escape proof?” He was fighting the oh-so slight tremor in his voice that he hoped no one had noticed.

  Nord’s head bobbed once in agreement. “The asteroid itself, so far as we know, is inescapable. However, the gang was somehow able to take control of their transport just prior to docking. They shot up the prison hangar and destroyed two patrol craft before jumping out of the system. They disabled their onboard tracer. The transport was later found abandoned in the desert outside of New Providence City on Melarii Two. The Melariian authorities have been specifically instructed by your employer not to touch the craft until after you have had a chance to examine it. That is to be your starting point. We believe they may be joining up with some of the other surviving members of their outfit.”

  “What other teams are on the hunt?”

  “Yours is the only one.”

  Jesse heard Kym give a low whistle of amazement, saw Podo
and Morogo exchange glances across the bridge.

  “Sir,” Jesse kept his speech slow and steady. “I admit we’re good, but I don’t think that even we could take the whole gang by ourselves again, especially if they have reinforcements. Even if we could, the Starhawk isn’t equipped to handle that many prisoners at once.”

  “As to your second concern, you needn’t worry about holding space. This is a termination order. We don’t want them back this time.” Nord’s voice held a note of satisfaction. “Every escapee’s sentence has been upgraded to termination. Bounty for each individual is payable on proof of their destruction. DNA templates are preferred.” He paused briefly. “As to your first concern, your team, and your team only was specified.”

  “Specified by whom?”

  “I’m not at liberty to say.”

  “Never mind who assigned us,” Podo spoke up, and Jesse shot him an annoyed glance. “What’s the bounty?”

  Jesse saw K’Tran and Morogo nod in greedy agreement, and a flash of anger coursed through him. Sometimes money isn’t enough.

  “Bounty on the two Garrakis brothers is one hundred and twenty-five thousand each. Fifty for Khyber, his mate, Jahrna, and the Mantilorian, Tesk. Thirty on Ho’jisk and Trank. Twenty for S’biz, Feros, and Skritz. Expenses to be paid separately after you’ve completed your hunt.”

  “Five hundred and twenty-thousand,” Bokschh calculated.

  The dam burst. Everyone began talking at once, each stating aloud what he or she would do with their share.

  “What about the smaller players working for the Nexus?” K’Tran asked, as the din subsided. “Like the transport pilots or small musclemen?”

  Nord cast a thoughtful glance at the older hunter before replying. “If you have an opportunity to detain any such individuals, and provided they are marked for bounty, those sums will, of course, be added into the total reward.”

  “I still don’t like being in the dark about our employer,” Jesse stated.

  “You don’t get to pick and choose your employers, Forster. That’s my job,” Several of Nord’s tentacles twitched with annoyance.

  “Yes, sir, but I still don’t like it.”

  “Just do the job, Forster,” Nord rumbled. “The Nexus Gang was bad enough the first time around. I shudder to think what they will do now that their tiny minds are probably bent on revenge.”

  “I guess we really don’t have much of a choice then.” Jesse drew in a deep breath, exhaled slowly. “All right, sir. As soon as we get our clearance to depart, we’ll get on the trail.”

  Bobbing his head in satisfaction, Nord’s face softened as he blinked his large, black eyes. His voice, when he spoke again, had lost its harsh tone. “Jesse, I want you to know that I’m not unsympathetic to your discomfort about confronting the Garrakis brothers again. I know what capturing them the last time cost you. Lohren was a wonderful girl.”

  The words, meaning to bring him comfort, only darkened Jesse’s mood further. Still, he found it within himself to conjure up a small smile. “Thank you, Guildmaster. I appreciate that. We’ll do our best. Starhawk out.” He signed off, and the Guildmaster’s image dissolved into snow, fading away.

  A heavy silence descended upon the bridge for a minute after the transmission ended. The crew watched Jesse closely. For the barest second, his shoulders slumped, but the motion passed as quickly as it had come on. If any of them had noticed his earlier discomfort, they made no mention of it. For that, he was relieved.

  “Okay everybody; let’s get ready to get this crate off the ground. Set course for Melarii Two.” The deckplates began to vibrate softly as K’Tran and Morogo brought the engines online.

  Jesse turned to Podo, “Fuzzy, signal spaceport control for clearance.”

  The Warwick nodded and spoke into his headset mike after establishing the proper frequency. “Obudon Spaceport Control, this is the Starhawk, docking berth seventeen, requesting clearance for departure.”

  “Starhawk, this is Control,” the spaceport traffic control androne came back in its gender non-specific voice, “Clearance is granted. May your journey be free of incident.”

  Jesse saw Podo’s cheek puff up slightly as he grinned. “Unlikely, Control, but thanks anyway.”

  Hearing the comment, Jesse allowed himself a grin. Then, setting his gaze forward he said, “K’Tran, you heard them. Take us out of here.”

  “Be my pleasure.” The older man nodded at Morogo, and the two of them lifted the Starhawk out of the docking bay and into the Rycan sky.

  “Engines are operating at their peaks,” Kym’s eyes never left her diagnostic boards, “We can bring the stardrive online as soon as we’re clear of Ryca’s gravity well.”

  “Then as long as everything’s under control, I’ll be in my quarters,” Jesse rose and started for the hatch. “Bokschh, you’re in charge. Notify me if anything comes up.”

  He stepped into the corridor beyond, the hatch closing behind him.

  Podo and Kym both looked after him as he left the bridge.

  *

  Gohrmann Garrakis lay in the dirt, red eyes staring blankly into the night sky. His right arm, severed at the elbow, lay several feet away, stained blue with blood and still clutching the laser pistol in its claws. The smoking wound in the Kleezha’s forehead was assurance that the gangster would not be getting up again. Ever.

  Small comfort.

  Jesse dropped his weapon and knelt to cradle Lohren’s head in his lap. Her russet hair fell across his arm in long waves. He could still smell the sweet scent of it.

  The laser blast she had taken in the chest had burned through her clothes, revealing scorched flesh beyond. Her breathing was labored and growing weaker by the moment. Jesse stroked her cheek gently, and her dark eyes fluttered open.

  Those eyes. The first time they met, those eyes had nearly bought Jesse to his knees. From then on, every time she would look at him in that certain way, he would have the same reaction. She was giving him that look now, only the effect was different, because he knew this would be the last time.

  “Hey you,” Her voice was barely a whisper. The hint of a smile traced her lips.

  Jesse hushed her. “Don’t try to talk. The others will be here any minute. We’ll get you fixed right up.”

  “They can’t help.”

  “Don’t,” Jesse said. “Everything’s going to be okay. You’ll be okay. You’ve got to,” He was saying it more to himself than to Lohren.

  She reached up and touched his face. Her eyes were glassy. Pulling his face to hers, she kissed him softly.

  “I . . .” Her voice faltered. She inhaled sharply, struggling to gather strength. Jesse could see that she was fighting to get the words out. “I . . . love you, Captain Kid.”

  She looked past him then; dark eyes staring up at the night sky over Piraxis Three. The faintest of smiles passed over her lips just before closing her eyes. She took another shuddering breath, her hand falling away from his face as she went limp in his arms.

  “Lohren?” Jesse’s voice was a tight, trembling whisper. “Lohren, don’t you die on me.”

  She was gone.

  He held her closer to him, letting the tears come now, his body shaking from powerful sobs. His chest that felt like it would explode outward.

  Still gazing down at Lohren’s peaceful face, he reached out for his sidearm laying in the dirt beside him. Gripping it tightly in his trembling hand, he raised it to his head.

  The sound of footsteps rushing up from behind him belayed his attempt to join his love. He dropped the pistol again, rocking Lohren, willing her to come back.

  He felt K’Tran’s hand on his shoulder, shrugged it off violently, and the older man took a cautious step back. “Jesse, why don’t you let us take her now? There’s nothing more you can do.” He said, his gruff voice choking with emotion. “It’s over. We’ve got the rest of them. Let’s send Lohren on her way. It’s what she would want.”

  His crew was had gathered around him, watchi
ng and waiting for Jesse to make his next move. Kym was on her knees, sobbing, clutching Podo, burying her face his fur. K’Tran wept openly. Morogo stood to one side, revealing no emotion, as stoic as the two drones that stood beside him.

  Jesse laid Lohren on the ground. Rising, he turned away without a word, staring blankly as he made his way through their ranks. K’Tran and Morogo knelt to retrieve the body. Kym rose to follow, but Podo caught her hand and held her back with a solemn shake of his head.

  Jesse walked further out onto the prairie, trying to lose himself in the darkness.

  The darkness that Jesse awoke to in his cabin was stifling. Sitting up, he untangled himself from the mass of sweat-soaked sheets and swung his legs over the side of his bunk. He took a long moment to slow his breathing, and calm his pounding heart.

  The damned dreams had come again. They had begun to subside in the past few weeks and now Nord’s announcement had stirred them back to fruition. He cursed Nord, the Guild, the Nexus and whoever had been keeping them and had allowed their escape.

  Hands still trembling, he reached to the shelf next to his bunk and switched on the miniature holo-stand there. Lohren’s full-length, holographic image stood a foot tall on the stand, and for the longest moment, he avoided looking at it.

  When he finally found the courage to glance over, he found her eyes had remained the way they had been during life, and were gazing out at him lovingly. He felt another surge of emotion and cursed. “I’m so sorry, Lohren. It should have been me.”

  He was grateful when the chime came from his cabin door. Reaching over, he shut the holo and called for entry. The door hissed open, and Kym stood silhouetted in the light pouring in from the corridor. “Can I come in?”

  Jesse nodded, bringing the lights up just enough to see clearly. The Starhawk’s engineer entered and sat on the edge of the bunk, tucking her long hair back behind one ear. Jesse gazed at her for a long moment, marveling at how like her sister Kym was, yet how unlike at the same time. The eyes were definitely the link. That deep, coffee color that seemed to hold one’s gaze forever was a trait both Tirannis girls shared, but there were other hints as well. A certain, quizzical tilt of the head; the same crooked, yet warm smile; the way each would brush their hair back behind one ear.