A glowing disk of intertwined rays in starlight blue. The horizon was filled with a vibrating gleam. Sparkles, like diamonds rolling down black velvet, whizzing past the stunned faces. A radiance graced the hull in alternating magnitude. An intricate play of ebb and flow emerged.
Dancing lights amidst the shadows.
The console, boosters, or one of the many dented platings were humming. Metal on metal, some loose screws and flailing wiring. Arguably, a combination of them all. Faster than light travel was a spectacle of awe. It didn’t matter how many times Ruri had already seen it. She loved every second of it – every time. But this time she was close to missing it.
She tried to find the perfect angle, to cover her whole bleeding wound with a gel pad. It stuck like glue, cooled her stomach and immediately eased some of the pain. She could finally breathe again and leaned back to think of nothing.
The whole ship was small and pragmatic. The cockpit had two seats and a console that, at first glance, looked quite complex. Under close inspection, especially by someone used to space travel, it remarkably seemed to be the exact opposite. The main compartment had everything they needed within two steps at a time. A small booth, at least big enough to lean back. A magnetic table that was always cramped with tools, guns, loose parts and everything that had no place elsewhere. A small counter, that someone could potentially mistake for a kitchen, but really only had the coffee machine and a small cabinet for sealed food and some dishes. Beneath the counter were two pill-shaped holes behind a translucent plastic curtain, that barely fit a pillow and some excuse of a mattress. And right in the middle of the room was a hatch that directly led into the shower – only big enough to stand straight. Whenever there was some room on the wall, it was covered by a net holding the various necessities. Some crates filled with clothing, a first aid kit and some chemicals for repairs and overall maintenance.
“Adjusting course.”
The board computer announced Leido’s co-pilot routine from time to time.
“Pressure stabilized.”
He skimmed through some coordinates looking for a place to lay low for a while, while always keeping one eye on the important systems. The ship was always a little piece of work, but the crew usually made good use of what they got.
Riga sat at the table, grabbed a wrench and started working on her wristband. She was quite tech-savvy, despite being a kid - and even compared to seasoned mechanics. With just the tuning of some screws, her spear assembled itself again. She brushed over it to look for any severe damage and absorbed it into her wristband.
“You alright?”
Ruri observed her meddling with the spear and was reminded by it as well. Riga took a second for consideration.
“Yeah.”
It was honest and put Ruri’s mind at ease. Without hesitation, she proceeded to pull out Corvo’s chip and a little analysis device from her pocket. It was just slightly bigger than a pack of gum with a slope on one side and various ports on the other – chips, cables and even a bigger hole for sparkplugs and the like. Upon connection, a holographic interface appeared above it. Her eyes moved rapidly across the flowing windows. Ruri always admired the fact that Riga absorbed information and evidently had no need to process it.
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“I can’t find anything about the flagged bounty.”
“Maybe give it some time.”
“That’s not how this works. It should be in here somewhere.”
Riga was so focused on the process, that she leaned forward and would occasionally blow a falling hair strand out of her face. Ruri observed a tick forming in real time.
She stepped around the table and started brushing through Riga’s long blond mane. Slowly pulling it back little by little, with a smile on her face.
“What about that Cooper guy?”
Since they met the Courier, the feeling of unease never truly left her.
“What about him?”
“See if you can find anything on him.”
The chip was still connected to the BHC, giving them access to a wide range of criminal data. A couple of windows popped up.
Cooper McClaine, M42, Courier, Founder of Starstruck-Express.
Riga was pushing them left to right, enhancing, docking, browsing – Ruri couldn’t keep up.
“He is mentioned as an informant, but it doesn’t say in what regard.”
“No bounty?”
“No, the opposite. He was awarded for outstanding effort.”
“What?”
Her hands stopped.
“Yes. Apparently, he helped the Republic of New Vexxia with a peace treaty.”
“Leido. How far are we from New Vexxia?”
Leido scrolled and scrolled the Star Charter.
“I wanna say. It’s not out of reach.”
He chuckled a little, glancing over his shoulder.
“Let’s go there.”
She wanted that badly. She was a little bit pissed that the Vorex were now hunting them, somewhat confused about everything that went down in that hangar and convinced it was the doing of Cooper McClain. More importantly, back when she started hunting, she promised herself that nobody could fool her anymore.
Stubborn – yes.
Delusional – a little.
So important that she goes out of her way to prove it – you betcha!
“No wait.”
Leido turned his chair. It was hard to miss any conversation in the enclosed space, so naturally one of his ears stayed with Riga and Ruri at all times.
“We’re flying on reserve. Do you really think this is the right time to chase a hunch?”
“Bounties are everywhere. We pick an easy one. Close to the system.”
Leido was tilting his head back and forth.
“I mean. We need money and fuel. Can we really make it work?”
“We could sell some of our stuff if it gets really close.”
“Sure. Does every one of us really need two pairs of underwear?”
They smiled. It wasn’t her best idea but her companions knew that she was hard to sway once her mind was set on something.
“2 Star Job. If we can’t find any, so be it.”
The BHC had a complex ranking system ranging from 1 to 10. It was engineered with care and fed with information by the second. Evaluating behaviour patterns, influence, resources and everything else that might give their bounty hunters an edge against the hunted. Ruri didn’t care for it.
She understood the ranking as following – 1 to 3 are your average lowlifes, 4 to 6 is a calculated risk, 7 and 8 are big problems for someone else and 9 and 10 are a decent death wish.
It seemed idiotic to some, while experienced Bounty Hunters respected the grounded survival instinct.
Leido had nothing to say against this, except a pronounced slow turn of his chair back to the console.
“Don’t worry Lizardman. We got this.”
Riga was giving a thumbs up, because she had already found a target.
2 stars, Frey Glanning, M28, gambling debt.
“Last seen on the Zeema Sphere in the Vexxia-system.”
“That’s good.”
The routine started – tools, guns and ammunition were spread across the table. Ruri polished her Huntress knife, Riga tuned the scanners and Leido, well, he had to release a sigh – a deep one.
“Hey. I saw the photo Corvo made on the Branec station.”
“Please don’t say…”
“We need to put it on the wall.”
Amidst the nets, between loose screws, above the small booth, was a sacred space. Imagery of laughter, deep space, lightless caves and grand cities. A snapshot of lives lived. A depiction of-
Dancing lights amidst the shadows.
