by Ian Cannon
Jinn-Junn made a wild-eyed smile and said, “I don’t know. There is no way of knowing.”
Ben nodded his head. It was all very strange to him. Why so many people were interested enough in jacking with the mind to create an entire medical and scientific school of thought over it, he didn’t know. Until now, he’d never really cared, either. But things sometimes change.
The door whisked open and Tawny strode into the lab. She was a sight for sore eyes.
She sat next to his bed and took his hand firmly in her own. “You’re back.”
“I didn’t die,” he groaned making her pat him punitiviely on the arm.
His wounds had been serious. The blade had missed his liver by centimeters, but he had bled out severely. Jinn-Junn had been able to infuse him with artificial blood serum and foam suturing before putting him under. He’d been unconscious for a full day.
Ben prodded at the stab wound. It had struck deep, designed to kill him. The foam-suturing had sealed it back nicely. Everything was healing up well. Tawny made a disappointed face.
“What?” he said.
“I can’t believe I missed it.”
“You didn’t miss it,” he said. “You were right here.”
She gave a crooked grin. “You know what I mean.”
He gave her a suddenly curious look. “Do you remember anything?”
She thought, screwed her lips up, then said, “Not a thing.”
He reached up and laid his palm on her cheek. He said, “Baby, you were here in ways I’ll never be able to explain.”
They stared into each other smiling for a moment. The lab door whisked open and Axum strolled powerfully into the bay followed by Korok wearing a dual laser rifle harness holster across a bare chest, Glutt dawning that cybernetic eye and Baston with his silver breast armor over red sash. Axum eyeballed Tawny with a knowing grin before scrutinizing Ben on his hospital bed. “Well, well. Looks like recovery suits you.” He looked over and said with a wink, “Both of you.”
Still clutching the injured parts, Ben swung his feet out of bed and struggled to stand.
Axum rebuked, “Whoa, what’re you doing? You should stay off your feet, boy. Might pop another hole.”
Tawny helped him up by putting an arm around his waist and supporting his weight. He got to a standing position before Axum, reached up and put a firm hand on the pirate’s big shoulder. Ben took a breath and said, “I stand with my friends, Axum.”
“Ha!” Axum blurted returning the gesture and putting a hand on Ben’s shoulder. “Well, if it makes you feel any better, my objectives were purely selfish. I mean, where else can a pirate have so much fun?”
Ben grinned sadly and said, “You lost people.”
Axum gave him as serious a look as he could muster—which is to say, he grinned with a heartfelt glint in his eye—and said, “We’re Knave’s Blade. The Knave’s Blade never die.” The three others pumped there chests twice and offered a low—Har. Har. An homage to the dead.
“Anyway,” Axum went on, “when you and the missus here get back out and about with all your galivanting, you’re welcome at Knave’s Blade—which is to say Raider’s Bay—any time. In fact, being Guilder wormdogs such as you are, we may have business.” Ben’s eyebrows lifted, and he switched a look to Tawny. Axum concluded, “Over rummish pints and ale down at Axum’s den, of course.”
“You got it,” Tawny and Ben both said together.
Conversation concluded, Axum said, “As for this place, I’m leaving a garrison. Might even fire the ovens back up. Get into the ore mining business on the side.”
“Really?” Ben said, a bit shocked.
“Of course!” Axum called. “I’m a pirate. Makes me a jack of all trades. That’s what we pirates are. We’re jacks of all trade.”
“Har har!”
“Right,” Tawny said.
Looking around at the infirmary with a cross eye, Axum said, “Hmm—could use some redecorating, though.” He grinned big and turned to leave, his entourage following. The pirates exited the lab bay in the sweeping way only pirates can, probably on their way to a drunken celebration aboard the Sun Hammer.
Tawny left the infirmary to go secure a few things, namely some food and to make arrangements to have REX join them from Teridrone. It would allow for a few hours of down time. She figured her husband probably needed it more than she did.
When she left the infirmary, Ben got to his feet testing his injuries. Jinn-Junn had begun an organic regeneration therapy to speed his recovery along. It seemed to be working. Still sore and a bit tentative, he made his way from the lab, across the extension walk and to the catwalk overlooking the entire foundry. The dust seemed to be settling. Pirates of Knave’s Blade moved around below him in the expansive place, strolling along the raised walkways and across birdges. Ben recognized one of them and looked hard. That wasn’t a priate. That was a Guilder. It was Rogan. The man was looking up toward the lab from the distance, perhaps eyeballing Ben with those terribly large eyeballs. It made Ben sigh and continue scoping the place.
A voice said, “Up on your feet, I see.”
He looked over to see Vekter Ramm moving to join him at the rail. This was a man he owed a sincere thank you to. He nodded, said, “Yeah, barely.”
“Never known you to take it laying down, Benjar,” he said with that smooth, confident smirk.
“Almost,” Ben said.
“In our line of work, almost means nothing. How you feeling?”
He thought a moment, said, “Bruised. Stabbed. Shot. But on my feet.”
“What’s next?” Vekter asked.
Ben shrugged looking out over the complex. “The hub’s gone. Guilder’s Mix is a waste. Not sure.”
Vekter said, “Sympto’s coming back around. They jacked him pretty good. He’s been in comms with the other liaisons, though. Leadership, too. They’re going to relocate, rebuild.”
“Why not?” Ben agreed.
Vekter paused with a thought, then said, “They’re talking about restructuring. Upper leadership stuff.” He looked directly at Ben. “They mentioned you.”
Ben blurted laughter and felt a stitch of pain course up his flank. He said, “No thank you.”
“Wouldn’t blame you one way or the other.”
Ben offered a curious look and asked, “The other?”
Vekter leaned on the rail with an elbow, comfortabely. “Look, I’ve never known Sympto to hurt for anything. Could be a good move for you and Tawny. Be a liaison? Who knows.”
Ben shook his head. “Once in, never out.”
“Keeping your options open, then?”
“Always.”
“Yeah—that’s a good move, too.”
A moment of silence fell over them in which Ben pondered momentarily about all that had happened. Guilders and pirates storming in to save the day. It had been someone’s plan. But whose? It flushed him with a sense of humility. He said, “Vekter … all of this … was it you?”
Vekter chuckled, said, “No way.”
Ben flashed him a curious look. Vekter nudged a chin down into the complex. Ben followed the notion … straight to Rogan. His mouth dropped open in surprise, and he said, “It was Rogan?”
Vekter nodded in the affirmative. “Yep. Shoulda heard his speech. It was rousing.” His inflection smacked of irony. He continued, “Something about eyeballs and Benji and Tawny and something called a gadget.”
Ben grinned to himself thinking about Rogan giving a rallying speech, hopped up on his natural social inadequacies and an Incarcerum brain modifier. It must have been a heck of a moment. Vekter continued, “They jacked him pretty good, so it didn’t make much sense to me. But Axum seemed to like it. Course, I think Axum just saw opportunity.”
Ben hadn’t taken his eyes off Rogan way down there in the shadows. The guy seemed to be following his feet going nowhere, just back and forth on the walkway. He smiled warmly and said, “I’m going to have to get him a new pair of eyeballs again.”
Ben returned the notion. “Thank you, Vek.”
Vekter faded off saying, “See you in the soup.” He walked away with his usual swagger.
Rogan stood on the Bridgeway overlooking the foundry. He stood as he always did. Alone. As Ben approached, the man counted something silently on his fingers. Perhaps he was counting thoughts as they passed through his jumbled brain.
Ben halted next to him and said in greeting, “Rogan.”
Rogan paused with his fingers frozen in half articulation and looked over with those big, black bug lenses. He grinned like a child. “Benji.”
That word again—Benji. Ben forced away any notion of disdain, replacing it with a compassionate understanding. Rogan wasn’t himself. He said, “So, I hear it was you.”
Rogan sniffled, nodding his head. “Uh-huh, yeah, yep.” He pasued, then said, “About what?”
Ben squinted at him. He said, “Raider’s Bay. Axum. Knave’s Blade.”
Rogan nodded his head as if in revelation. “Oh yeah. Uh-huh. Wormdogs a plenty.”
“What’s that mean?” Ben said.
He said matter-of-factly, “We all went.”
“All?”
“Us wormdogs.”
Ben nodded putting his words together. The Guilders had shown up at Raider’s Bay in force to recruit the pirates’ help. “I heard you gave a speech,” Ben said.
“I think so,” Rogan admitted. “A lot was said. Lots of words.”
“They worked.”
“Words work.” His voice trailed off whispering something inaudibly to himself.
Ben spied him curiously as a knot grew in his gut, a sick sensation of pity. How much of his mind had they scrambled? He said lowly, “They hurt you, didn’t they?”
Rogan grinned. He tapped his temple with a finger and said, “You mean up here? It’s going away. Everything’s coming back … or vice versa.”
The two spent a moment staring out over the foundry floor in peace. For an instant, Ben imagined they were standing at some Molta-Danoran beachside pub like two regular fellas watching the huge, cobalt face of Optus the gas giant vex the black water horizon, fanning blue light across the planet. He hoped Rogan was seeing the same.
He asked, “Why’d you do it, Rogan?”
Rogan smiled with an odd tranquility. Perhaps he was observing Optus creep over the Danoran world, too. “You’d have done it for me.”
Ben turned to look him squarely. He felt a pang of guilt. Perhaps, even shame. In truth, he wouldn’t have risked it. Not for Rogan. No way.
But … maybe it was time to reconsider all that.
He asked, “Are we friends, Rogan?”
Rogan murmured, “Two birds in a bush.” He swiveled his head over still grinning that peaceful smile, and said, “Ain’t we always been friends, Benji?”
Ben returned the smile and extended his hand. He said with absolute certainty, “Damn right.”
Rogan took his hand, and they shook.
Boarding REX was like returning home. It flushed Ben with a sense of calm. Together with his wife, they departed from Incarcerum moving slowly through the swarming asteroid field. They had no plans, no destination. It was refreshing to be subject to the solar winds of their home system, going … wherever.
Tawny leaned over and took his hand catching his attention. “Feeling better?” Her voice took on that snaky sweet tone, bottom lip pinched under her teeth.
He grinned, said, “Yeah.”
“Yeah?”
“Oh, yeah.”
Her face changed, became reflective, as if looking into him recalled a memory.
Ben said, “What?”
She thought a second and said, “You asked me if I remembered anything.”
“Yeah?” he said, interested.
“Well, I don’t. But I had a dream.”
He looked at his wife, now very interested—a dream? He said, “You did?”
“Uh-huh.”
“What about?”
She clicked her tongue and said, “It was weird. I couldn’t place it at first, but I think … I think I was back on Malum.”
“Malum,” he repeated, shocked.
“Yeah—that place,” she said darkly, as if the word didn’t belong in their cockpit. But she went on, “Anyway, I remember being in the dark. All alone. I felt scared. And then you were there. You were just standing there with this big smile like everything was going to be okay. And you held your hand out. And you said, c’mon … c’mon, take my hand. You just kept saying that. C’mon, take my hand … over and over.”
He made a curious, severe expression, listening intently to her story. He finally asked, “So, did you?”
She said matter-of-factly, “Of course.”
He smiled with subtle revelation. “Then it worked,” he murmured.
She gave him a loving look and said, “I’d say it’s worked out perfectly.”
They shared a tender moment swimming in the after-silence of the story.
An indicator beeped snapping them both back. Tawny looked at her comm screens and said with piqued interst, “Oh, look. A job. It’s coming through a limited hail.”
“What is it?” Ben said.
She studied it shortly and said, “They’re not saying.” Then she gasped, “Look at this yield, Benji!”
He looked over and went numb. “Two million!” Neither of them had ever seen a payoff that big.
She added excitedly, “It’s a contractor looking for transpo. Ooh—a special contractor.”
They met eyes, both of them starting to burn. A new job. A big payoff. This might be interesting. He said, “You want to check it out?”
“For that much yield? Ab-so-lutely,” she said.
“What’s the heading?”
“Two stops. A pick up and drop off. Non-partisan space. Outer band to …” she studied a second longer and concluded, “Molos.”
“Outer band,” Ben said offering a whistle. “That’s a long way.”
“Better get there quick, before anyone else,” she said, always up for a challenge.
He nodded, decision made, and said, “Yo, REX.”
“Yeah, I heard you, Cap. Coordinates entered from the hail.”
“Okay, let’s—”
“I know,” the ship said. “Burn!”
They banked around, fired the inner-warps and—BOOM—gone!
***
And the adventure continues in …
WOUNDED WORLD
A Space Rules Adventure Part 4
Thank you for reading!
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~ Ian Cannon
NOW AVAILABLE — THE ORIGIN STORY
As you read Bounty Hunted: A Space Rules Adventure Part 3, you were given a general understanding of how Tawny and Ben meet at the Battle of Malum. In the full book, take the adventure with them as they defeat their ideological differences to survive the greatest battle in history and become a force for good in the Solar Twin Wars.
What’s Next?
WOUNDED WORLD
A Space Rules Adventure Part 4
COMING THIS SUMMER
Find out what happens when a simple drop-off puts the fate of an entire world in Tawny and Ben’s hands in Wounded World.
Books in the Space Rules Adventure Series
Higher Ground
Bad Bargain
Doomed Cargo
Bounty Hunted
Wounded World: Coming this Summer
And more to come!