Rogue Hunter

Gaia #1

Into the Abyss

by

Kevis Hendrickson

This is a work of fiction. The events and characters described herein are imaginary and are not intended to refer to specific places or living persons. The opinions expressed in this manuscript are solely the opinions of the author and do not represent the opinions or any third-party publishers.

Rogue Hunter: Gaia: Into the Abyss

All Rights Reserved.

Copyright © 2009 Kevis Hendrickson

Smashwords Edition

Cover illustration © Morgan Bishop. All rights reserved – used with permission.

Rogue Hunter Logo © Ryan Hawkins. All rights reserved – used with permission.

Preview illustration #1 © Ryan Hawkins. All rights reserved – used with permission.

Preview illustration #2 © Ryan Hertanto. All rights reserved – used with permission.

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Dedication

To Mindy

Acknowledgements

A quick shout out to all the people who helped this book to see the light of day. I want to thank Mindy Schwartz for her wonderful contribution to this story. You were the inspiration behind this book. Thanks also to Marise Ghorayeb for being the extra pair of eyes I desperately needed. I cannot thank my editor Alicia Costello enough for helping to bring order to chaos. Much respect to Rick Royster for being the fine teeth comb that can make any story better. Last but not least, I want to thank Morgan Bishop for creating the exciting book cover. No contribution to the publication of this book went unnoticed or unappreciated.

When you look long into an abyss, the abyss looks into you.

—Friedrich Nietzsche

Into the Abyss

Chapter One

High above the viridian oceans of Taklaylon Alpha, a shrieking comet split the indigo sky and announced itself with a brazen flourish, leaving behind a brilliant streak of crimson-gold. The primitive mariners who inhabited Taklaylon Alpha called such celestial sights Makki or ‘Serpent’s Flame’. Makki was the messenger of the Gods and the harbinger of doom that often rained down death upon the unsuspecting people of the world. But unknown to the mariners who observed the fireball descending through the sky now, the Gods had not sent this Makki. The burning cloud of ash and dust plunged from heaven, booming into the sea.

Beneath the foaming waves of the Mantikaas Ocean, the comet began to burst apart as something large and metallic pushed its way out of its fuming core. A plume of what appeared to be angry mechanical serpents suddenly tore through the comet’s charred skin, afterwards blossoming into a silvery squid with long, flailing tentacles. Having shed the exfoliating carcass of the comet, the mechanical squid ejected a cloud of dark ink, concealing its torpedo-shaped body as it propelled through the water. The squid descended into the unfathomable deep of the ocean until it came within range of a large base. A surreal glow of faintest turquoise came from the base created by the exterior lights that shone like the sun through stained glass. Upon close inspection, the base revealed itself to be a collection of pea-pod shaped towers stationed around a large central tower that rose several hundred feet above the ocean floor. Each tower, capped with a saucer-shaped command center, was a functional refinery which processed precious metals mined from below the sea crust.

The squid, fully enveloped in its ink cloud, used its suckers to attach itself to one of the telescope-shaped storage towers extending from the nether regions of the base, and began penetrating the thick metal walls with searing heat from its underbody. The water frothed beneath the squid as it labored to breach the tower. When the squid burned a large enough hole, it ejected a large silver capsule from its innards into the gaping, hot gash in the tower. Its task was now complete. The robotic squid released its grip and swam away from the base into the unfathomable depths of the ocean seeking its watery grave.

#

The discarded metal capsule abandoned by the squid, drifted down slowly into the blackness of the primary water exchange within the tower. The capsule—or cocoon—carried a young woman who, somewhere between life and death, slept, unaware of anything except the dreams that haunted her unquiet soul. The cocoon’s heating system activated. Her body temperature quickly rose from sub-thermal levels until the ice thawed from her face, revealing her pale, ashen complexion and stark golden eyebrows.

As her blood warmed and respiration restored, the young woman began to stir. The minutes ticked off slowly as the thawing process continued. The internal system’s chronometer blipped softly as it struck zero. The cocoon’s hatch opened, flooding the inner chamber with water; ejecting its occupant into the watery darkness. She drifted downwards in a near lifeless state. A few seconds passed before the young woman suddenly awoke from her deep slumber. A deadly fright overcame her as she realized she could not breathe and her lungs filled with water. The young woman, uncertain which way would lead her to the surface, followed the bubbles of air escaping her lungs. It took all the strength she had to force her stiff, frozen limbs to propel her through the water. Every part of her body cried out in agony as she strove against the black liquid void around her.

The darkness was suffocating; it drove her mad. To breathe again was all that mattered. She could nearly taste the air. She hungered for it. One breath. Life or death. The young woman felt the air leave her lungs as black spider webs stole across her vision. Swim or die. The darkness grew deeper. Pain wracked her senses. As she clawed for the surface, desperate for air, the young woman acknowledged the inevitability of her death. Yes, I’ll die, she thought, but it won’t be today.

Chapter Two

At the head of the oval table in the center of a large conference room, Admiral Henry Forsythe sat quietly in his chair, listening to the concerns of his senior staff of military advisors. This meeting, shrouded in secrecy and weighted with importance, frustrated him. The uneasy looks from his subordinates unnerved the stern Admiral. Forsythe’s face flushed hot and scarlet as he pressed his thick, stubby fingers together.

“So, Commander Billick, are we to believe that this plan has any chance of succeeding?” Forsythe asked crossly.

“We have seen to every detail, Sir. The President himself has endorsed it,” Commander Jon Billick answered, his voice equally unsettled. He fumbled, but cleared his throat to speak, beads of sweat lining his wrinkled brow. “However, I believe the President was hasty to agree to this course of action when so much depends on its outcome. I wonder at the wisdom of it.”

“So do I,” Forsythe replied.

“With all due respect, Admiral, considering our options, she was the best choice,” interjected General Talib Kifimbo, his deep, basso voice clear and resolute. “That sector is infested with pirates. We would have to shoot our way through every quarter inch of space to get within even a hundred thousand light years of Taklaylon Alpha.”

Admiral Forsythe studied the dark features of General Kifimbo. The General understood the need for tact. Where others used brute force to overcome a challenge, Kifimbo used subtler means. Even his much lauded pragmatism failed to persuade Forsythe.

“I understand the need for action, General. This is a matter of utmost importance. The security of the Alliance hangs in the balance. But the President acted prematurely, if not outright recklessly, to commit such responsibilities to an unsavory character,” said Admiral Forsythe, the deep rumble in his voice betraying his attempt to control his rising anger.

“Like so many others here, I share your concern, Admiral, and also feel that our President has entrusted our fate to a notorious rogue,” said General Saii Vidigen, a blue-skinned Ratarran. “But what choice do we have? Our only alternative is to enter Kleelon space with our entire armada. Surely you can see the wisdom in deferring to a less gaudy display of our force. If the Xorghkans ever found out that we have ignored the treaty to build a new fleet of warships, we will have a full scale war on our hands.”

General Padraic Sheehan, who sat directly across the table from Admiral Forsythe, cried, “I agree with Commander Vidigen. A permanent cessation to the war has to be our ultimate goal. We cannot risk angering the Xorghkans!”

This discourse upset a man sitting near Sheehan. He stood up, knocking down his seat to accost Sheehan.

“How long will we remain silent with the enemy’s bayonet pointed to our throats? Our new fleet is state of the art. We are much stronger than the Xorghkans realize. If it comes to resuming hostilities against their kind, I will personally lead the charge against them!”

“And I will happily join you, Captain Blaylock,” said Sheehan, also rising angrily from his chair. “I am eager to restore the honor of our esteemed military, but I have not yet forgotten our defeat at Corus Ni. I would urge the rest of you gentleman to remember it as well.”

“Agree or disagree, what does it matter? President Upshaw has made his decision and we must abide by it. Anything less would be treason,” interrupted a calm, wiry-limbed Treeban General, emphasizing his words with a pronounced cluck.

“I have heard enough!” Admiral Forsythe bellowed, suddenly lifting his large frame from his chair. “This decision was made without my consent. Yet, I will not show disloyalty to our elected leader and his wisdom. However, I am aware that one of you here is responsible for cooking up this half-baked scheme. I will have you know this: The next man who dares to circumvent my leadership in an attempt to gain the president’s favors will find himself on the wrong end of a torpedo tube. I trust that you men will be more sensible in the future.”

The officers all avoided the Admiral’s fiery glare, but he raged nonetheless. “I will add this caveat. If this bounty hunter fails to bring back the stolen cylinder, I promise that every one of you sons of whores who agreed to this mission will wish you had never been born. Dis-MISSED!”

Admiral Forsythe ignored the nervous tension in the air and stormed out of the conference room with a wide grimace. No one dared to get in his way. Forsythe stomped to his Ready Room and slammed an angry fist into the star chart on the wall. Fortunately for his hand, the chart was a holographic image and not made of glass. The door opened to his room, interrupting his hoarse, infuriated huffing. Forsythe spun around, eyes blazing, to see a bald man escorted by a tall, purple alien wearing a beard made of scabby tentacles.

“Bloody brilliant speech you made out there, Admiral. But you should know such threats are unbecoming of an officer, especially one as highly decorated as yourself,” said the bald man. A pair of cybernetic implants wrapped around his clean shaven head flashed a brilliant array of colors.

“You have some nerve coming in here after what you pulled, Devlin,” spewed Forsythe. General Anton Devlin was the last man in the galaxy Forsythe wanted to see right now. Devlin was a man whose ambitions knew no boundaries. Though a career military officer, Devlin had set his sights on much loftier positions of power within the government. He had recently befriended the President and had no qualms about using his newfound influence in order to get his way. There was nothing or no one he wouldn’t sacrifice in order to acquire the power he coveted. As far as Forsythe was concerned, Devlin was the worst sort of soldier imaginable. A man like Devlin should never be entrusted with the lives of others. Everything about Devlin offended Forsythe. It took all the self control he could muster to keep from beating the man to a bloody pulp. Forsythe noticed Devlin’s implants turning a vibrant blue as he straightened his military jacket, making sure his many medals flashed in the dim light.

“I want to make certain you understand the situation, Admiral. You have no say in this operation. The President himself appointed me liaison between the Government and our little bounty hunter friend.”

“This damned operation is going to get us all killed! Only a fool like you would ever think to trust a maniac bounty hunter!”

“You lack vision. You have spent far too much time patting yourself on the back for your past accomplishments; you fail to see that others possess skills you do not, nor ever will.”

“That bounty hunter is a bloodthirsty murderer who kills for pleasure! Those are not the skills needed for this operation.”

“It is precisely what is needed! Commander Black will not hesitate to use the contents of that cylinder against us. To kill a savage, one must use a savage.”

“This isn’t about Commander Black or the cylinder. You are planning something, Devlin. But I’m watching you closely. If you even get a hair out of place—”

“No need to threaten me again, Admiral,” Devlin said, casting aside his stately demeanor for a more hostile one. “I am certain the President will be happy to know you have such confidence in his plan. You are simply afraid to admit that you’re too old for this job. Capable men such as myself are ready to assume responsibility should you become a victim of a regime change.”

“Over my dead body.”

“Such a thing can be arranged.”

General Devlin turned to make his way to the front of the ready room with his escort. He stopped just short of the exit and gave Forsythe a carefree stare. “By the way, Admiral, I informed our distinguished President that the decision to use the bounty hunter was your idea.”

With a cool, but sinister grin, General Devlin glided out of the room. Forsythe balled his fists at his side trembling with rage as he contemplated Devlin’s words. He was certain nothing good would ever come of trusting a bounty hunter. As far as he was concerned, the mission had already failed, and he would be the one to take the fall for it.

Chapter Three

Zyra Zanr broke through the surface of the freezing water with a loud gasp. Although she was thankful to breathe air again, the burning sensation in her lungs did not leave. She fought through her fatigue, swimming to the edge of a metal plank that led from the black pool. She roughly dragged herself onto solid ground. Still unbalanced, she expelled the neon-blue colored cryoprotectant fluid from her stomach and lungs through her mouth. Zyra, bent over in agony, squeezed her belly as she endured a long bout of purging her body of more of the bluish fluid.

No matter how many times Zyra had experienced the cryo-chamber, she felt she would never get used to having her body filled with the revolting chemicals, even though they proved necessary to survive the cryo-freezing process. When the last of the cryoprotectant was ejected from her body, she dropped to her side, violently shivering. It would take time for her body to regain its normal temperature. The pain caused by her thawing body tormented her, red hot needles deeply pricked into her flesh all over. Time blurred as she succumbed to darkness.

#

Zyra awoke to find herself overcome with an uncontrollable quiver. How long had she been unconscious? Minutes? Hours? Days? She had blacked out more than once only to find herself stifled with unimaginable pain. She was lucky to have survived the thawing process, but the deep chill in her body would remain until she could procure some clothing. Unfortunately, the mind-numbing cold was the least of her concerns.

Zyra rose with effort from the cold floor. It took some effort to steady herself. Every step she took away from the black pool behind her was a challenge. But nothing would stop Zyra from accomplishing what she had come to do. She had been sent to Taklaylon Alpha for the sole purpose of recovering an item very precious to the InterGalactic Alliance. The item was a mystery to her; she only knew it was stolen by a dangerous fugitive familiar to Zyra:

Molly Black.

Molly was the reason why the Alliance had sent Zyra to this remote and mostly uninhabited world. Whatever Molly had taken from the Alliance, it must have held great importance.

It might have been arrogant for her to admit it, but Zyra prided herself on being the greatest bounty hunter in the Draeda Galaxy. Her exploits took her to the edge of space and back. She captured hundreds of fugitives in only a few short years. Hence, it did not altogether surprise her that the Alliance decided to send her to capture Molly.

Still, Zyra proved something of an embarrassment for her current employer. The more fugitives Zyra apprehended, the more incompetent the authorities looked. Zyra so effectively caught criminals, she often had to bring them in several at a time, piling them up in her ship’s brig as she went after more fugitives. Both the Military High Command and the InterGalactic Police despised her. Until this mission, the authorities never requested her for a job.

She used traditional means in order to find fugitives, browsing the IGP Emergency Broad beam Alerts and Most Wanted data feeds looking for the usual suspects: bail runners, terrorists, thieves, rapists, murderers, and the like. It shocked her to learn that the President himself requested her for this job. Zyra knew a number of senior military officers were unhappy with the President’s decision.

Didn’t matter. So far as Zyra was concerned, the President made the right decision. Zyra straightened her back as her heartbeat began to quicken. The thrill of the hunt filled her with strength as she readied herself to stalk her prey. For Zyra, the hunter’s lust was intoxicating. She would find Molly, retrieve the stolen item, bring it back to the authorities, and collect on the enormous bounty they promised her.

Zyra lost her train of thought when she heard someone speaking nearby. She sidled against the cold metal wall of the dark maintenance alley she was traveling, careful to avoid being caught in the dim rig light that shone from the adjoining corridor. With catlike movements, Zyra approached the edge of the maintenance alley and stuck her head out just enough to steal a glance at the pair of approaching women. Both women were armed with rifles, but appeared to be unaware of her presence. Zyra ducked back tin the shadows to keep from being seen.

“So what’d you tell him, Red?” the first woman asked, her voice a subtle mixture of weariness and indifference. The other woman ignored her partner’s blasé attitude and continued her spirited rant.

“I told ‘im if he don’t wanna spend the rest of his life drinking out a straw, he’d best keep his damn hands to himself.”

“Old boar.”

“Tabbers’s worse than y’know, Lopez. I swear that man’ll hump anything that has a hole in it. Heard Shamrock caught him with his package stuck in a pigeon hole.”

“How’d that happen?”

“Guess he got blue balled once too many times on the ship and figured he’d get up close and personal with a probe-launcher.”

“Why?”

“Closest thing to a love-droid on our ship. Anyway, he’s lucky he didn’t lose his goods. Can’t imagine what he would’ve done if the pigeon hole had went live on him. His knob would’ve lit up like the rainbow trees of Cannelista Five!”

“I don’t know what’s more tiring, Tabbers’ out of control hormones or your lame jokes.”

“Only reason ya ain’t laughin’ ya guts up’s cause ya ain’t got no damn sense of humor!”

“Well, I’m all out of laughs. Captain’s been bustin’ our chops for days. I’m ready to get off this whale-infested rock and go raid some ships. Heck, I’d do a sprawl just to shoot the passengers out an airlock.”

“Me too. Kinda wish he’d hurry up and get this damn meeting over with. I need some action!”

“Should be over soon if Groenig’s right. Anyway, this is as far as I go. Gotta meet back up with Desuzu at the port entry and make our rounds.”

“Get going then, you old scab! See you at the mess,” said the dark skinned woman, not breaking her stride as she advanced down the hallway. Barely glancing at the other, the women went their separate ways.

Zyra had eavesdropped on the pirates’ conversation, hoping to chance upon some vital information that would help her complete her mission. Unfortunately, the conversation amounted to nothing more than idle gossip. Another bounty hunter might have felt this was a lost opportunity.

But not Zyra.

No sooner than the first woman turned to head back down the corridor from which she had come, Zyra leapt out of the shadows and hauled her prey back into the darkness where she struggled with the woman.

Like most pirates, Zyra assumed the woman possessed the skills to put up a tenacious defense. But Zyra didn’t have the time to get into a long drawn out duel. She grabbed a fistful of the woman’s dark braids, coiling them around her neck to strangle her. The woman sputtered with terrified, shocked eyes as she rolled, desperately seeking for an escape. The woman’s strength withered under Zyra’s anchored grasp; Zyra listened intensely as the woman harbored her last defeated breaths and finally surrendered to death.

Zyra emerged from the shadows a few minutes later wearing the dead woman’s outfit and toting her sleek black and grey rifle. Even though she was still shivering, Zyra could feel some of the warmth return to her flesh. Zyra double-checked her surroundings for threats before assuming a determined march down the hallway. As she walked past a mini-sub docked in the water, she stopped, struck by her reflection in the sub’s silver hull. She purged the contents of her stomach again when she observed her “borrowed” outfit.

It was a mish-mash of tight red leather and lingerie that failed to cover most of her arms and legs. It revealed far too much skin and hugged her curves too tightly. Zyra realized that there was very little of her body that couldn’t be seen if one looked closely enough. This was not the attire of a bounty hunter. It was not the sort of thing she expected to see anyone wear except at the local brothel.

Zyra realized that this was quite an intimidating new look for her. One glimpse of her in this red outfit and her enemies would probably laugh themselves to death. If she was lucky, she wouldn’t even have to fire a shot to capture Molly. Zyra rolled her eyes at her pathetic attempt at self-humor and continued walking down the corridor knowing that it wouldn’t be long before she would be forced to dispatch the next unfortunate pirate.

She needed to know Molly’s location and didn’t have time to go through the difficult process of breaking into the resident computer network. Pain would serve her needs. All she needed was the right victim. Zyra followed the winding corridor to a nearby turbo lift where the dark skinned woman she had seen a few minutes earlier was standing guard. The woman’s lips were pursed in the fashion of someone who was sulking with boredom. Zyra made a knit of her golden brows and frowned. Looks like this isn’t going to turn out any better for you. You chose the wrong line of work.

Chapter Four

Zyra exited the wide corridor near the turbo lift doors when she heard several voices nearby. She quietly stepped over the twisted body of the green skinned alien she had just killed and stooped to avoid being seen as she peered around the corner of the next hallway. There was a coterie of pirates gathered nearby. It was a dirty, disfigured band of humans and aliens, most wearing scrapped together atmospheric breathers or encounter-suits. Though she recognized a few of her more infamous hosts, one person in particular grabbed her attention.

Rador!

Even had he not been wearing the ceremonial garb of the legendary pirate, Korig, Zyra would easily have noticed Captain Rador. He was a very tall man with dark raven hair and a neatly-trimmed goatee. His uniform was clean and well kept. In another setting, he might have passed for a reputable business man. But despite his stately manner and charming looks, he was an imposing figure. Captain Rador was considered the most notorious space pirate alive. He was cold, calculating, and downright ruthless. He had cut out his right eye just to show that he meant business. Zyra dreaded to think how many innocent people had lost their lives after crossing paths with Rador.

“And you say that you can show us where to find this new weapon?” asked Rador, in his regal voice.

“I told you, Captain Rador. It’s not a weapon. It’s a new form of energy. The applications are limitless, if you get my meaning,” replied the dark haired woman standing across from Rador. Zyra didn’t need to see the familiar green eyes that peeked out from the woman’s fine porcelain features to recognize her; she could never forget the voice of Molly Black even after not seeing her for many years.

“Energy source then. But you’ll excuse me if I appear skeptical,” said Rador, his rapacious glower not unlike that of a vulture ready to pick the flesh from a dying animal. Zyra observed Rador studying Molly, searching for any sign of weakness or deception. But even Zyra could not pierce Molly’s stoic gaze. So cold, thought Zyra. Like looking at a corpse.

“If you feel you cannot trust me, then perhaps I should take my services elsewhere. Many would sell their lives to possess what I’m offering you,” said Molly.

“You are asking much of me, Ms. Black, without showing me any proof of your claims.”

“If it’s proof you require, then you shall have it.”

Molly cupped her hands together and flicked a forefinger. An object instantly de-cloaked in her left hand to reveal a long narrow cylinder. Molly raised the object for all to see and twisted the edge of the cylinder to deactivate its glare shield. A blinding light filled the room, causing everyone to hide their eyes with their hands. When their eyes had adjusted to the glare, the observers were able to make out a small white speck trapped in the center of the cylinder, the source of the blazing white light. “This is Gaia! Now do I have your attention?”

Zyra heard the pirates gasp as they stared in awe at the glowing cylinder. But something stirred within Zyra. Her senses were heightened. Her blood began to race. Her breath shuddered. A deep sense of foreboding overcame Zyra, causing her to shake. She could feel something strange and terrible reaching out to her from the cylinder. An oppressive force clouded her mind; it was as though her consciousness were falling into the depths of eternity. Then, as quickly as it had begun, the feeling passed. What was Gaia? Why did it frighten her? Zyra noticed Captain Rador furrowing his brow as he contemplated the strange light engulfing the room.

“You must have gone through a great deal of trouble to get your hands on such a thing,” Rador explained, his eyes narrowing even further. “The Alliance will no doubt hunt you down. This makes my acquaintance with you a liability.”

“The Alliance will not find me if you take me to my destination,” Molly urged.

“As I said before, you ask much of me. But I will give you what you need if you uphold your end of the bargain,” said Rador, turning his one good eye upon the pirates on either side of him. “Freitag and Mortimer take Miss Black to the shuttle. Meet me at the rendezvous. The rest of you, attend your stations. I have a feeling the Alliance will come for Miss Black sooner than we imagine.”

Before anyone could carry out Rador’s orders, Zyra stole out of the shadows with her rifle aimed at Molly.

“Sorry to be a party pooper. But I don’t think Miss Black is going anywhere except to an IGP detention cell.”

“Zyra,” Molly snarled.

“Been a while hasn’t it, Molly? Still causing trouble I see. You naughty girl.” Zyra swung her weapon toward one of the pirates who was reaching slowly for a knife. “Don’t get any ideas, fellas. I would hate to ruin Miss Black’s day,” Zyra warned as she pointed her gun back at Molly.

“Hold your fire!” Captain Rador ordered the pirates, extending his arms on either side of him to keep them at bay. Zyra stole a glance at Rador to notice the strange expression on his face. Was that fear in his eyes or contempt? Before she could contemplate his odd behavior, one of the pirates ignored Rador’s command and drew his gun from his holster. Zyra had just enough time to blast a gaping hole in the pirate’s chest before the others joined in to respond accordingly. The familiar crackling and hissing of discharging laser weapons filled the air.

Zyra leapt backwards while firing several rounds from her laser rifle at the pirates who fanned out along the room to ensnare her in a deadly circle. The hair stood up on the back of her neck as arcing ribbons of scarlet energy lit up the hallway like little sun flares. The violent bursts of deepest crimson that came from her own weapon caused her eyes to squint. After taking out several of the closest pirates, Zyra rose from the floor and dove behind a large metal supply crate to avoid being struck by the incoming red bolts.

While Zyra exchanged gunfire with the pirates, Molly took off running with her escort. An angry Captain Rador quickly faded behind her in a saffron blur.

A hologram?

Zyra’s momentary distraction with Captain Rador nearly cost her her life. She had to duck to avoid the well-aimed shot that caused a shower of white hot sparks beside her. Zyra was pinned down by the suppressing laser fire and knew that the crate could only take so much before it exploded alongside her in a fiery cloud. Zyra grew dark with rage while she flicked the rapid fire switch on her gun. She opened fire on the ceiling just above the pirates and struck the running lights, causing jagged shards of glass and metal to rain down on her opponents. Those who weren’t wearing encounter-suits had to cover their heads to avoid being burned by the acidic chemicals that also spilled from the lights. Zyra spun into view from behind the crate and unleashed a steady stream of lasers on the pirates. They wilted before her like burning grass as their smoldering bodies littered the floor. Zyra ran past the dead pirates, ignoring the loud crunch of broken glass under her feet as she sprinted through the door that led to Molly.

#

Zyra had barely opened the door that led to the adjacent power control junction chamber when a female pirate lunged at her with the butt of her rifle. In one motion, Zyra ducked, drew the pirate’s own knife from her boot, and spun around once to stab the pirate in the back of her head. Zyra withdrew the knife from the pirate’s pierced skull and hurled it immediately into the left eye of the nearest pirate before he could open fire on her. The remaining pirates let their guns blaze. But Zyra used the female pirate’s lifeless body as a shield and picked off the pirates with her deadly aim, one after the other.

The sickening stench of burnt flesh and ozone stung Zyra’s lungs. She fought off growing nausea to maintain her concentration as she surveyed the power chamber. A large power conduit humming with energy ran directly through the center of the room. Surrounding it lay a circular platform with a cross section of bridges that led to multiple emergency exits. Zyra stared at the different doors, pondering which one led to Molly. She would only have time to try one. If she chose the wrong door, she would never find Molly before the criminal fled the undersea base. Zyra gripped her weapon tightly. She noticed a service ladder running up the backside of the power conduit. At the end of the ladder, a service door on the ceiling led up to a maintenance shaft.

You clever girl. But I’ve got a few tricks up my sleeve too.

Zyra ran over to the ladder and grabbed onto the first rung, climbing it with anxious steps.

#

It was obvious that Molly and the pirates had not expected to see Zyra following them up the maintenance shaft because she caught them at unawares just as they reached the top. One well-aimed laser blast struck one of the pirates; he lost his grip on the ladder and fell past Zyra screaming. The pirates guarding Molly immediately opened fire on Zyra. Though quite dark, the work lights in the maintenance shaft offered Zyra a clear view of its interior. She was able to make out the large circuit box at the top of the shaft while she dodged the enemy fire. Zyra narrowed her gaze, took aim at the circuit box, and pulled the trigger on her gun. A shower of sparks rained down from above when the heavy circuit box door came loose from the hinges, swung open, and sliced through the shoulder of one of the pirates causing him to lose his arm. The pirates decided to make a hasty retreat through one of the nearby service tunnels. A lone pirate remained behind to fight Zyra, quickly unloading shots from his pistol, as he took cover behind the thin metal plating of a groove in the wall. Zyra placed a well-aimed shot in his brain causing him to take an awkward dive down the shaft.

Zyra quickly reached the top of the maintenance shaft and pointed her gun in the service tunnel. Seeing no immediate threat, she wiggled her way into the cramp tunnel.

#

Zyra dropped down from a ventilation shaft into an unlit hallway and immediately gazed into the sights of her rifle. She spun around to check the wide path behind her before noticing drops of green blood lying near her feet. The blood trail led down the hallway and around the nearby corner. Zyra sprinted down the hallway, nearly overcome by the excitement of the hunt. Panting heavily, she stopped to gaze around the first corner. A stream of white sparks spewed from the wall beside her head. Unlike the insect faced alien pirate who had just taken aim at her, Zyra did not miss her target. The pirate shrieked as it fell down to the ground dead. Zyra raced down the next hallway as fast as she could. She finally spotted Molly running with the last of her escorts. The pair of masked pirates on either side of Molly spun around to let off a volley at Zyra, but was immediately struck down by her. Zyra centered the sights of her rifle directly at the back of Molly’s head while steadying her excited nerves. Suddenly, the rifle’s power gauge bleeped , indicating her weapon could not make another shot. Zyra shook the gun, attempting to draw the remaining power from the clip, but the gun lay quiet and dark. Zyra threw the useless gun to the floor and ran to the nearby wall to press the controls that activated the emergency blast doors. Seeing that her escape route had been cut off, Molly broke off her stride and turned angrily to face Zyra.

“Give it up, Molly. It’s over,” Zyra said.

“Over? No, Zyra. It’s only just beginning,” Molly replied, pure venom in her gaze.

“Look, just hand that cylinder over and you might leave this place with some of your limbs intact.”

“What a fool you are. Coming all this way to find me and not even knowing why.”

“What do you mean?”

“They didn’t tell you what it is I’m carrying, did they?”

“What do I care?” Zyra said, tossing her golden tresses back with a snap of her head. Molly’s eyes turned to slits when she noticed the threatening posture Zyra assumed.

“I see. You didn’t come for the cylinder.”

“Oh, I came for the cylinder alright. But I also came for something else. Your head on a stick!”

“I nearly killed you the last time. Haven’t you learned your lesson?”

“I’m a terrible student. Maybe you can teach me again.”

“Fine. But this time I’ll make sure there’s nothing left of you to scrape up!”

Zyra and Molly began to circle defensively around each other, oblivious to the strange luminescent deep sea fish that swam past the observation window on either side of them. The women sized each other up, tensing, anticipating the moment when the other would strike first. This was not the first time Zyra had squared off with Molly. She remembered their last encounter all too well.

Zyra was younger than she was now and not the seasoned fighter she had become. She was not prepared for Molly’s incredible hand-to-hand combat skills—or her savagery. While Zyra fought only to subdue her opponent, Molly was determined to rip her to pieces. All her combat training, all her resolve, and all the passion she could muster, meant nothing in the face of unrelenting hatred. When the fight was over, she was nothing more than a bloody pile of torn flesh and broken bones. Molly had blinded Zyra in one eye and had tried to gouge the other eye out as well. She had a collapsed lung, dislocated jaw, several broken ribs, and had even faced the possible amputation of her right leg. Few people would ever have survived the beating she suffered at Molly’s hand. It had taken years for Zyra to recover from her severe injuries. Even now, the memory of what she had endured in that duel filled Zyra with horror. Zyra was determined to make certain that this encounter had a different ending.

Molly’s green eyes lit up with the wildness of a predator. There was hate in her eyes then too. She took a step forward and swung an angry fist at Zyra. Zyra knocked the blow aside with her forearm and struck Molly with a vicious elbow, drawing a line of blood from her brow. Molly quickly wiped the blood from her face and attacked Zyra with the cylinder containing the Gaia sample. Zyra sidestepped the cylinder before grabbing it and ripping it free from Molly’s grip.

Zyra realized her mistake too late. Molly lunged at her, grabbed a hold of Zyra’s long golden hair, and gave a strong forward yank. Zyra, blinded by her tresses, felt a knee plow into her ribs, causing her to drop the cylinder. Zyra’s grunt turned into a cry when Molly flung Zyra to the side and smashed her face into the emergency first-aid kit storage container on the wall. Glass shattered everywhere as jagged shards stabbed into Zyra’s flesh. Molly struck an open palm under Zyra’s chin before pulling Zyra’s hair forward and down, causing Zyra to flip onto her back. Molly stomped Zyra brutally in the chest. Zyra felt a sharp pain near her sternum and let out a horrible groan. A vicious kick to the back of the head caused blood to spurt from her nose.

Molly enjoyed watching Zyra suffer and ruthlessly prolonged her agony. While Zyra tried to crawl away from Molly, Molly launched a kick into her ribs. The loud snap that accompanied the blow nearly caused Zyra to black out. Molly grabbed Zyra by the hair again and lifted her up. She threw a wide hook at Zyra’s face. But Zyra snapped her head to the side to move out of range of the attack and smashed the heel of her boot into Molly’s shin.

Molly wailed as she staggered backwards. Zyra used Molly’s momentary discomfort to her advantage and struck her twice in the face with a closed fist. Another blow connected with Molly’s bruised cheeks before Molly grabbed Zyra’s fist in midair. Zyra grabbed Molly’s arm and hurled her over her shoulder. Molly’s hip landed with a sickening crack on the floor. Zyra dropped with all of her weight and plunged her knee deep into Molly’s gut. Blood and spittle flew from Molly’s mouth as she gasped. Molly, with ragged breath and a weak grip, yanked Zyra backwards by her blood-soaked hair. Zyra cried out in pain and angrily hammered Molly in the face with a strong left fist. Zyra tried to stand up, but Molly maintained her grip on Zyra’s hair and wrenched her back to the floor.

Zyra’s vision blurred from the hot blood flowing into her eyes. She tried to force herself up from the floor, but Molly seized the advantage caused by Zyra’s disorientation and bit Zyra on the leg. Zyra’s shriek filled the air as Molly clung and bit deeper. Once more, Molly grabbed Zyra’s hair and smashed her head on the blood splattered floor.

This time, Zyra did not move.

Molly eventually regained her standing height. She made her way to the far side of the hallway bearing the infamous metal cylinder. With barely a glance back at the bloodied figure sprawled on the floor, Molly opened up the blast doors and limped awkwardly to her destination.

Read on for an excerpt from

Rogue Hunter: Quest of the Hunter

by Kevis Hendrickson

Ziggiris

Two Years Later…

Zyra had landed her ship only a few hundred kilometers from the old mining colony of Zadikon, so it didn’t take her very long to reach her destination. She sensed the precariousness of the situation and promptly brought her hover-cycle to cautionary speed. According to the flashing light on her left forearm that tracked the heat signature of life forms, Fal Orono, or some other living being, hid somewhere in the ruins of Zadikon Colony, so she had to be on guard. Fal Orono may have been ill, but he was extremely intelligent, aggressive, and most likely paranoid. Zyra knew without a doubt that Orono would not hesitate to kill her.

Zyra surveyed the landscape, committing all the perceivable ins and outs of Zadikon to memory, while she cruised by the ramparts of the old, makeshift fortress on the outskirts of the ancient colony. She searched through the streets and studied the dilapidated cylindrical buildings and rusted metallic structures that once had been the colonists’ homes, any of which could serve to conceal Fal Orono from her intensely alert eyes. Bits of aluminum scaffolding and plastic tubing from the ravaged buildings blew past her feet in a cloud of debris. The brisk solar winds that regularly traversed Ziggiris couldn’t dispose of all the trash left behind by the colonists. Hundreds of years and abandonment had scavenged defunct power stations and mining rigs.

After a few minutes, Zyra came to the central square of the hexagonal colony where several conjoined buildings stood. She dismounted, grabbed her photon rifle, and began to walk towards a ramshackle pergola containing a cache of old mining equipment. She had hardly taken a step before a stream of laser fire bore down upon her. Zyra dived to the ground and rolled to avoid becoming a stationary target while the ground burst into flames. She leapt into the air and activated her Icarus Tech Propulsion Pack, its twin-turbo sonic propulsion engines mounted just above the small of her back, thrusting her like a bolt of lightning away from the laser fire and towards an overturned excavator vehicle. She had to duck to avoid being struck by the subsequent laser blasts zipping by her, as well as hot shrapnel that rained from the excavator’s hull like fiery hail. Suddenly, the laser fire ceased. Zyra gathered from the silence that her target was repositioning himself to get a better shot. She searched for her would-be sniper among the stacks of equipment.

“You don’t have to do this, Fal Orono. I’m not here to kill you,” she cried out.

“I don’t know how ya found me! But I ain’t goin’ back!” a voice yelled from somewhere within the shadow of the pergola. The electronic cadence of the voice signaled that Fal Orono, too, was wearing an encounter-suit—not surprising, considering the lack of a breathable atmosphere on the moon.

“Look, you’ve been a very naughty boy, Orono, and you’re in a lot of trouble. Don’t make things worse for yourself. Throw down your weapon and surrender.”

“I ain’t never surrenderin’! You can tell that to whoever sent ya!”

“No one sent me to get you. I’m only doing my civic duty while trying to make a quick buck. I think you’re familiar with the term bounty hunter?”

Zyra punched a sequence of numbers on the keypad on her left forearm. The tracking system began to blip more sporadically than before. Now she was able to track her target’s movements.

Left! He’s moving left!

The encounter-suit computer tracker’s alternating blips suddenly turned into a sustained beep. An unrelenting thread of lasers ravaged the excavator as Zyra leapt from behind it, glass, plastic, and metal spraying into the air. Zyra returned fire at the pergola. A sudden barrage of intense photon energy tore through the dilapidated building. The pergola exploded with a blinding glare, causing a figure to shoot out from its burning frame. Laser-fire beamed at Zyra again. A pillar of dust enveloped Zyra when she fired the thrusters of her propulsion pack to avoid the lasers. She vaulted sideways into the air, while firing off an impressive stream of photon darts at her target. Zyra had no time to react. Fal Orono was one step ahead of her. He had already launched himself at her with his own single thruster propulsion pack. Fal Orono shot toward Zyra like a streak of light from the fiery blaze that was the pergola. He came at Zyra with his laser rifle blazing. Still performing her midair cartwheel, Zyra spun in the air from an upside down motion, contorting her body like a corkscrew while activating her risk blade. She made a deft slash at Fal Orono with her left arm.

Fal Orono managed to avoid her risk blade as it flashed before him. Zyra flayed the heel of Orono’s boots as he rocketed past her. Zyra tried to gain her distance from Orono’s lethal aim while firing a defensive stream of shots from her photon rifle when one of the twin engines on her propulsion pack unexpectedly failed. She was thrown into a wild spiral. Zyra barely gained enough control to avoid the brilliant burst of scarlet energy that zeroed in on her. Zyra killed the thrust on her propulsion pack to avoid crashing into the wall of one of the nearby buildings. She landed roughly on the ground, but rose in time to avoid the second and third round of laser blasts from Orono’s rifle. The air smoldered from all the intense laser fire raging at Zyra. She hastened back towards her hover-cycle, but Fal Orono turned the vehicle into Swiss cheese.

Can this get any worse? I’m supposed to be the hunter, not the hunted!

Zyra turned to see Fal Orono racing towards her. She sprinted away from him and nimbly avoided hot scarlet death while returning a salvo of radiant photon blasts from her own weapon. One mistake and I’m dead, she thought. With his propulsion pack at full thrust, Fal Orono shot by her, barely missing her with his marksman aim. He veered around in midair for the final kill. Zyra could feel death a breath away. Something suddenly boiled up deep inside her. Fueled more by rage than desperation, Zyra performed the most unexpected and foolhardy act of suicidal bravery she could recall doing. Instead of running away from Fal Orono, who was now descending towards her like a raptor with talons agape for the kill, she turned to face his relentless attack. The ground beneath Zyra exploded as she leapt into the air with a cry, rising higher than a moon with substantial gravity would have allowed her, and grabbed onto Orono. The impact of them colliding midair knocked Zyra’s photon rifle from her hand.

Fal Orono looked as if he was going to use his laser rifle against Zyra. She quickly grabbed the butt of the weapon and tried to wrest it from him. Orono’s response was to punch her twice in the face to throw her off balance so that he could regain control of his rifle. The frantic movements he was making to keep from flying straight into the moon during Zyra’s moment of distress caused his weapon to go whirling into the air when she snatched it from him. Zyra made a fist with her other hand in anticipation of activating her risk blade again. Orono recognized her intent and clutched her wrist. Zyra struggled to get free of Orono’s grip to no avail. The pair wheeled high into the air, racing from Zadikon Colony like a pair of screaming missiles. Only seconds had passed before they were hundreds of feet in the air, zipping over the vast plains of Ziggiris.

Fal Orono used every acrobatic trick he knew to shake Zyra off of him. He shot down in a steep incline towards the moon’s surface, then flew low enough to cause Zyra’s dangling feet to strike rock. A stream of dust rose for nearly a kilometer. The friction of Zyra’s feet raking the ground painfully overrode her senses. Zyra’s anger soared to its peak as she cried, “If I’m gonna go, you’re coming with me!”

She gave a harsh tug on Orono’s arms, forcing him to fly lower to the ground than he had intended. He was flying at such incredible speed that he could not angle himself up in time to avoid a tall boulder that projected out of the ground. He was about to clear the boulder when his shoulder slammed into it. Both Orono and Zyra let out a loud cry from the force of the impact. Zyra was certain from his horrible wail that Orono’s shoulder had torn free from the socket. In his agony, Orono lost control of his propulsion pack and flew in a haphazard pattern. She cried out also, fearing that they would both crash into the moon below them. She held onto Orono using the fingers on her right hand.

Seizing upon Orono’s momentary disorientation, Zyra made a fist with her left hand again to activate her risk blade and thrust upwards. With one precise motion, she cut through the blue-black oxygen-line that fed air into her target’s encounter-suit. Fal Orono cried out with a whimper as he spun completely out of control. This time, Zyra lost her grip on Fal and tumbled wildly towards the moon. She landed on the ground with a wheeze, a mushroom cloud of dust rising about her motionless form. A moment later, Orono smashed into the moon as well.

Zyra ignored the burning sensation in her legs and forced herself to rise. She limped slowly towards Fal, noticing that he was on his knees hunched over screaming. She could see the oxygen escaping his encounter-suit in a pale orange-yellow fume. The severed breathing line had depressurized his encounter-suit. She knew what would happen next. There was a brief explosion before Fal Orono fell backwards to the ground. Zyra squinted at Fal, unable to make any sense of his features through the red spray that had coated the visor of his encounter-suit helmet.

Zyra thought about what had occurred and how quickly it had all happened. She wondered if she had exhausted every means to avoid killing Fal Orono. What if she had waited just a few more days to get her encounter-suit to operate at full capacity before undertaking his capture? Perhaps if she had, she could have used the suit’s non-lethal apparatuses to apprehend him. Then again, maybe she was asking the wrong question. Perhaps the real question was did she feel upset because she played a role in Fal’s death? Or was she simply disgusted by the fact that she didn’t feel any guilt about his passing? By its very nature, bounty hunting was a messy occupation. Known throughout the galaxy as the ‘Grande Dame of Bounty Hunters,’ she knew the title was not meant to be a compliment.

Not what I wanted. I only hope this was all worth it.

Zyra stepped towards Fal, watching the faint gravity cause his blood to rise into the air in the form of bubbles. She noticed something glittering within the mist of ink-blue blood rising from his breached suit. Zyra reached an arm forward to take the glittering object from the air to discover that it was a data orb.

She had just started to scrutinize the orb when she had the strangest sensation that someone was watching her. Zyra removed her eyes from the orb and cast her gaze warily about her, searching the shadows of the nearby cliffs with more than casual alarm.

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QUEST OF THE HUNTER

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ROGUE HUNTER:

QUEST OF THE HUNTER

by Kevis Hendrickson

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Table of Contents

Rogue Hunter: Gaia #1: Into the Abyss