Origins: The Complete Series

by J. N. Chaney

  The tunnel let out at an intersection of paths. The platform stretched out ahead of me with a row of docked ships waiting off to my right. A second route cut through the wall to my left, leading toward the main promenade and shops. Ahead lay an empty stairwell that led to the second-floor catwalk. The upper floors were vacant, too, though I couldn’t get a good view of all of them from this angle.

  It was as clear as it was going to get.

  I could see the Renegade Star not far off, and only a thin stretch of walkway stood between me and getting the hell out of here.

  “Siggy, do a scan,” I said into the comm. “Tell me if anyone's nearby.”

  “Yes, sir,” said the AI. “According to initial scans, there are several dozen people on a nearby platform on the opposite side of the Renegade Star, loading crates into a cargo ship. There are thirty-four ships active right now, though they are all on the far side of this docking platform.”

  “Is anyone moving toward the Star?”

  “It's difficult to tell, sir,” replied Sigmond. “Given the amount of activity on the upper and lower decks, I can't be certain.”

  I grimaced, not entirely fond of that answer, but it was all I had to work with.

  Since the walkways around me were empty, I shoved Decker forward toward the ship. He stumbled, no doubt a calculated move to throw me off balance, but I tightened my grip on his shirt and pushed him ahead of me.

  I kept my eyes peeled as I continued to scan the world around us.

  “You don't really think you're going to get away with this, do you?” Decker taunted as he looked back at me.

  In answer, I briefly let go of his collar and grabbed his wounded shoulder. I squeezed enough to make him flinch, which shut him up.

  “Let us in, Siggy,” I ordered as I grabbed the back of Decker’s shirt yet again.

  “Right away, sir,” replied the AI.

  The cargo bay doors on the Star began to open as we neared. Over the years, I’d learned how to time this perfectly—how far away I needed to be for Siggy to open the gate without a second to spare.

  Sure enough, the gate bumped lightly against the platform just as we reached the Star. I shoved Decker onto my ship and stepped on board as he shuffled forward, the cuffs still locking his hands behind his back as he tried to maintain his balance.

  “Close the door, Siggy,” I ordered once we were in.

  The moment those doors closed, I could relax, knowing I was home free.

  The cargo gate began to close as I grabbed Decker by the collar and pushed him down into the metal chair I had secured on the far wall. It wasn’t pretty, and I didn’t care for the new aesthetic it brought to my ship. The metal legs had been roughly welded to the floor to keep it from sliding around in flight, since I wasn’t about to give him luxury accommodations for the trip to his trial on Avos.

  I shoved his pistol into the gap between the small of my back and my pants since I didn’t have a free holster. I tightened the straps that would root him in place and didn’t even bother taking off the cuffs around his wrists. The first strap went around his waist, and he cursed when I made it too tight.

  The cargo bay doors droned as they closed, almost painfully slow. I could feel every second as it passed, and I wouldn’t be able to relax until the doors had sealed.

  I just had to hang in there a little longer. Within the hour, I'd be out in the void, headed toward Avos and nearly done with this job.

  As I tightened the second strap around Decker’s shoulders, a red dot appeared on his forehead.

  I froze. “Shit.”

  Instinct took over, and I dove to the floor as the shot went off and echoed through the air.

  The cargo bay doors finally shut and sealed themselves, and I looked quickly around for Decker. He was still in the chair, but he wasn’t moving. His head lolled on his shoulders, his body only held up by the straps, and blood dripped onto his lap.

  Fuck.

  “Open the door, godsdammit!” I shouted at Sigmond. “Open the cargo bay door!”

  “Opening now,” said the AI.

  While I peered through the top of the gate as it opened, someone on the second-floor catwalk was pushing himself to his feet, getting ready to run.

  I waited by the exit for the door to open all the way, my body tense and ready to spring the moment I had enough clearance to bolt.

  Right now, every second mattered.

  It didn’t bother me that Decker was dead. Fuck that guy.

  I just didn’t take kindly to someone interfering with a job, and I certainly didn’t like that some asshat with a sniper rifle had just cost me good money.

  I bolted up the ramp before jumping off the end, then hit the ground and rolled. Once I was back on my feet, I ran toward the nearest stairwell.

  Someone had just cost me my bounty, and I needed answers. More than anything, the Avos Parliament had stressed that they wanted a live body, not the fresh corpse I now had in my cargo hold.

  Even if I couldn’t give them a breathing Decker, maybe they’d want his killer.

  “Make sure the door is closed, Siggy, and keep it locked until I get back,” I ordered into my comm. “No one comes aboard the Star, and no one touches that body.”

  “Understood,” replied the AI.

  As I took the stairs two at a time, I grabbed Decker’s pistol from my belt and prepared to fire. I still had my revolver along with my secondary pistol if the need arose, but hopefully I could bring this assassin in alive.

  The man with the rifle ran like hell down to the far end of it. I bolted after him, my feet thundering along the metal floor as I finally caught sight of the other ship Sigmond had been talking about. On the far end of the docking station, men stood between stacks of crates along the wall. Several of them had their full attention on me as I ran, no doubt drawn to the commotion from the shooter.

  Great, I had an audience. Just what I needed with a dead body in my ship.

  The man with the rifle rounded a corner, and as he did, a second guy stepped into view from the same hallway. The man raised a handgun, but followed after his friend. As he ran, he fired at me, but couldn’t keep his eyes on me long enough to aim. Every shot missed, hitting the nearby walls at random.

  He was young, probably inexperienced. That was good.

  Keeping low, I raced after him. He fired another bullet that sailed over my head.

  This whole situation was going to cause me problems later, no question. I didn’t need witnesses. I didn’t need investigations. I didn’t need the wrong people asking to take a look inside the Star or refusing to grant me leave until they combed the place.

  If I was going to apprehend these two, it would have to be quick.

  “Siggy, put us in the queue to leave,” I said as I neared the hallway. “I want the engines primed the second I get back.”

  “Working,” the AI responded.

  I reached the passageway where the two men had disappeared and instinctively dropped to the ground as shots whipped by overhead. Decker’s gun slipped out of my hand, but it didn’t matter. I had two more.

  The two men stood in the corridor with guns raised, and I had seconds to survey the scene before another maelstrom of bullets started up. One had a cowboy hat, the rifle still in his hands, while the other man covered with atrocious aim.

  The guy with the handgun was closer, and he was just about the worst shot I’d ever seen in my life.

  Without hesitation, I fired from my hip, snagging the second shooter’s leg. Panic and surprise filled his face as he fell to the floor, and the handgun went with him. The pistol slid and dropped out onto the catwalk as I darted towards him. Before he could react, I decked him in the face with my left fist. There was a loud crunch.

  Broken nose, I guessed. And blood spattered against the nearby wall.

  He’d be out of commission for at least a few moments—enough time for me to handle the sniper.

  The sharpshooter slung the rifle over his shoulder, wise enough t
o know that using a weapon like that in such a small space would only put him at a disadvantage. He instead pulled a handgun from a holster at his waist. As the pistol came up toward me, I slipped in close and took his wrist, and he grabbed at my shoulder to get me away. He fired, desperate and afraid, but each shot only struck the wall.

  With my hand still holding his wrist, I took hold of his collar with the other and kneed him in the gut with as much strength as I could channel, knocking the wind clean out of him. His strength slacked and his grip on the pistol loosened, and I ripped the weapon out of his hand.

  Still, he recovered fast enough to jab me in the stomach. I felt that, nearly dropping the gun I’d just stolen.

  He followed that up with a heavy strike to my jaw that sent me into the wall with a loud smack, and pain thundered through my head.

  The gun was free, I realized, now resting a meter from the both of us.

  The man stalked toward me, one arm cocked to no doubt deliver a final haymaker, but I didn't give him the chance. I tilted my head to the side when he tried to punch me, and his fist landed with a meaty thud against the wall. He shouted in pain, but I followed up with a gut punch and a right hook to the temple.

  He crumpled to the ground, and his hat tumbled off his head.

  The first guy stood, his nose still bleeding. He stumbled, leaning one hand against the wall as he cradled his face with the other, but he managed to keep from falling over.

  Even though the guy with the hat had been a great shot, it didn't seem like these two were the best fighters in hand-to-hand combat.

  Lucky me.

  A woman appeared at the far end of the hallway, long brown hair cascading over her shoulders as she surveyed the scene with narrowed eyes. She paused midstride, her lips parting a bit in surprise.

  The second shooter and I waited, both of us looking at her in an awkward moment of silence—blood on our faces, and a body on the floor.

  “You need to head back,” I told her as the first man stumbled toward me, his fists raised.

  She answered by pulling out a gun and aiming it right at me.

  “Really?” I asked, letting out a sigh.

  I grabbed the first man and wrapped my arm around his neck, choking him while also keeping a body between this woman and me. In the same motion, I drew my pistol and held it to his head. With the unconscious man still in my periphery, I narrowed my eyes on the new stranger to see how she was going to handle this one.

  The girl didn’t flinch. With her gun still raised, she took several steps toward me, her shoes making no noise on the metal floor.

  “If you want his brains on the wall, keep on coming, lady,” I said, pressing the barrel of my pistol harder against the man's head. “Put your gun down or everyone in this hallway dies today.”

  The woman stopped dead in her tracks, glaring at me, but she didn't lower her weapon.

  “Do it now,” I demanded. “Don’t test me.”

  For a moment, none of us moved, and I wondered if I really would have to kill this guy. I didn't want any more death today. Hell, I didn't want anything to do with these three in the first place.

  They had shown up and screwed me over, not the other way around.

  Still, she didn’t move.

  Fine. I’d change tactics.

  “You all have some explaining to do,” I told them. “And if you give me any shit at all, I will not hesitate to kill you and dump your bodies in a slip tunnel. Now drop your godsdamn gun, woman.”

  Instead of obeying, the girl cocked the weapon, and I debated how good of a shot she could be. Maybe she could hit me and avoid the hostage I’d just taken, or maybe she didn't care about his sorry ass at all.

  Maybe using him as leverage had been a bad idea.

  “Ruby,” said the man between us calmly. “Just do it.”

  “Yeah, Ruby,” I said, keeping my tone even.

  Her nose wrinkled in disgust as her dark eyes narrowed on mine, but I could see she wasn’t going to risk hitting her man, whoever he was. After a brief pause, she finally set her gun on the floor. “Fine,” she said, raising her hands above her head. “Let him go and be on your way.”

  My hostage let out a sigh of relief.

  I had known this job wouldn't be easy, but it was never supposed to go this way. Whoever these people were, they’d just ruined my day.

  Decker had been right. I was in deep shit after all.

  3

  After securing the three idiots that killed my mark, and with my hands wrapped tightly around the piloting controls in the cockpit of the Renegade Star, I took a deep breath and exhaled.

  Delivering these fools to the client, along with Decker’s corpse, could wind up getting me some extra payment, but it could just as easily be for nothing. Either way, I had to try.

  I had plans, after all, and those plans were expensive.

  The pilot’s seat squeaked a little as I shifted my weight, my ship and cargo safely off the station and now among the stars. I’d slipped into the departure queue and out into the black with barely any time to spare.

  “Anyone following us?” I asked, focusing my attention to the holo image of the station.

  “No ships are in pursuit,” assured Sigmond. “Are you concerned that you may have drawn the wrong sort of attention, sir?”

  “I’d say that’s a strong possibility, Siggy. Keep scanning the station until we’re out of this system.” I finally let go of the controls and rubbed my face, my eyes stinging from two days of bad sleep. The display gave me a view of the vast stretch of space ahead of and all around the Star. “Are those three idiots still tied up?”

  The AI was quick to answer. “Yes. Our prisoners are handcuffed to their chairs, just as you left them, and the gentleman who was previously unconscious is now awake. They are currently whispering about how they plan to escape, but thus far all attempts to do so have failed. Excellent job on your knots, sir.”

  Those reassurances did nothing to ease the concern roiling in my belly about what came next. “If they lose blood circulation in an arm or two, it’s their own damn fault for getting involved in this.”

  “Indeed, sir.”

  After an hour and two short slip tunnels, I finally allowed myself to relax.

  Even if Decker’s men wanted to find him—and I wagered they would eventually try to hunt down whoever had kidnapped him—they would have no idea where to go.

  This little detour had taken me off course and sent me in the wrong direction, but after the scuffle I’d had with Ruby and her two friends, I had to play things carefully. My time as a Renegade had taught me to be cautious, but it had also kept me alive.

  “Talk to me, Siggy. How much time is it going to take to get to Avos from here?”

  “Thirty-four hours, sir,” replied the AI. “Provided, of course, we avoid both of the slip tunnels we took to get to our current location. If we were to return through those, it would reduce travel time significantly.”

  I fanned a hand in the direction of the nearby speaker. “We’re staying as far away from that station as possible, even if that means added travel time.”

  “And added fuel costs,” the AI pointed out.

  “Sure,” I grumbled. “Have you heard anything back from the Avos Parliament?”

  In the final moments before we’d taken off from the station, I’d sent them a vague message to get back to me to renegotiate the terms of the job. No client ever wanted to get a message like that, and I figured they’d take their time replying.

  “Nothing yet, sir,” responded Sigmond. “I’m certain they’ll return your call promptly. Are you sure it was wise to omit Mr. Decker’s death from the message?”

  “Definitely,” I replied. “The longer they have to think about the terms of the renegotiation, the less likely I am to get paid for this. It’s best if I tell them myself. Easier to negotiate when you’re there in person.”

  I scratched at the stubble on my jaw as I debated what to do. After all, I had a corpse
and three prisoners on my ship, each one strapped to their own personal chair.

  In all my time as a Renegade, I’d never been in a situation like this. Sure, I’d had folks, even other Renegades, steal a job from me at the last second, and I’d flown in and snagged up a mark before a rival could get there. Open jobs were fair game, after all, and with great risk came great reward.

  But the Zacharias Decker job had been assigned exclusively to me, largely because no one else was interested.

  And anytime you accepted a one-man job, it went off the table for everyone else. Freelancer or Renegade, you stayed out of their business or you risked getting blacklisted. Besides, finishing someone else’s assignment just meant they would still get paid—not you.

  This was different.

  This time, I’d had a job taken away from me in the middle, and I didn’t have a precedent for how to handle it. There weren’t Renegade-approved consequences for a situation like this, and I’d just have to play it by ear.

  Three hitmen were sitting in my lounge, handcuffed to my dining chairs. I didn't like leaving the three of them tied up unattended, but I'd had other matters to attend to first.

  I leaned my head back against the headrest and blew out a heavy breath. “This didn't go quite like I planned it.”

  “It did not,” agreed the AI.

  “What do you think they want?” I wondered out loud.

  “Perhaps they’ll enlighten you as to their motivations.”

  “Yeah, I won’t hold my breath.” I stood and ran my hand through my hair, debating how I should handle this. Coming up blank, I decided to confront the trio I was currently carting around. “Before I head out there, are they causing any trouble?” I asked, temporarily closing my eyes to get a brief moment of peace before the next wave of complete bullshit came at me.

  “All three captives are still secured to their seats,” assured Sigmond. “No progress has been made in their varied attempts to escape, though one of the gentlemen is trying to break the back of his chair.”

  “Oh good,” I said. “First they kill my mark, and now they’re gonna wreck my shit. Keep an eye out, Siggy. Alert me if you see anything. I don't want anyone interrupting this interrogation.”