Rylan nodded and said nothing else. Burke always felt awkward around the man: he was used to leading people, but the pilot was skilled enough that he required little direction. Rylan said even fewer words. The only times he could get a conversation out of him was when he asked about flying the ship.
“That was some maneuver you pulled off down there,” Burke commented. “You turned the ship faster than I thought was possible.”
“I’m still getting a feel for the Brisbane Cap—Jack,” Rylan closed his eyes as he misspoke. “I was a few minutes later than I should have been.”
“You got us out of there in the end. That’s all that matters today,” Burke said. He turned and saw Cass beaming proudly at him for paying the pilot a compliment. He rolled his eyes and Cass silently laughed.
“If you say so,” Rylan said. “Thank you,” he added.
Burke nodded once and turned to the terminal closest to him. He cycled through the ship’s security system until he settled on the feed from the ship’s jail cells. He saw that Taggus had huddled up into one of the corners of his cell and was ignoring the bed. The vruan’s skin had reverted back to its calm greenish blue from the agitated purple it had been earlier.
“We should drop him off as soon as possible,” Burke said. “Cass, can you display the orbiting station’s coordinates?”
“She already did,” Rylan said. “We’re already half way there.”
Burke turned to see Cass once again looking pleased with herself. She was far more efficient than he was at any part of their work that didn’t involve fighting something. He was happy that she was taking full advantage of their partnership: no longer was she the AI that would rarely do something without checking with him first. She was taking the initiative that was rightfully hers. He hoped that their work would remain interesting enough for her to remain with him in the foreseeable future.
“I’m going to make some dinner then,” Burke announced. “Call me when we get there.”
“Will do, Captain,” Rylan responded.
* * *
Taggus was handed over with little ceremony. The officers on the small station gave Burke a token thank you and notified him on how to collect his payment. He knew that Cass would likely already be messaging their contact that posted the bounty. He did not linger on the station for long and the Brisbane was soon back in orbit around the planet below them.
Burke resumed preparing a meal for both himself and Rylan. After years of horrible rations and disgusting preserved food, Burke relished any chance to use the ship’s extensive kitchen—a feature he had specifically requested. He had been a horrible cook at first but, like most new things he encountered, he relentlessly committed himself to the activity until he was satisfied with his results. In a relatively short time, he had acquired the knowledge to prepare a handful of meals at a higher quality than most restaurants he visited. Each month he tried to add one new recipe to that list.
Rylan usually ate with him and rarely commented on the state of each meal, whether it was one Burke had already perfected or a new one that was still wrought with early mistakes. He often wished that Cass was capable of processing food so he could receive some honest feedback; he was certain that Rylan kept his mouth shut so not to offend the man who hired him.
The kitchen had a dining area built through an additional door in the room, making it the closest area in the ship to the helm. The large table had several computer terminals and was meant to double as a meeting area for the mercenary teams that usually occupied the kind of ship Burke and Cass had purchased. Their table was used solely for eating and had not once been utilized for discussing contracts. Cass usually spoke with Burke directly in his room or at the helm when they were looking for a new job.
There was a screen on the wall in the room. It could be altered to display information about the ship, or mimic the feed to any other screen elsewhere in the vessel. They always left it to receive news reports. Most people received their news on their personal computers or their tablet phones, but a traditionally presented news show had been a staple in human culture for centuries. The news channel they watched reported on the entire known galaxy, interspersed with local news tailored to wherever the home or ship was that received the transmission. For instance, as Burke watched the screen, it currently only displayed weather reports for the planet, Liveria, below them. There was a long list of rainy days ahead for the sprawling city that covered most of the planet.
“Back to Galactic News now,” the presenter said with a smile. “Everwood and Black are next to cover the ongoing debate over the future of Earth.”
Burke perked up at the mention of his home planet. He slowly slid his hand over the control panel on the table and increased the volume from the display. He took a few more mouthfuls of food—chicken parmesan and rice, one of the meals he had mastered—as the news cycled through its overly dramatic opening music and title sequence. He only paid full attention when the news anchors finally appeared on the screen.
“Welcome to Galactic News, I’m Daina Everwood,” the female lead anchor said.
“And I’m Oliver Black,” the co-host added afterwards.
“Tensions are currently high as human officials meet with foreign ambassadors over Jupiter,” Daina began. “The location for the summit, chosen by the Vruan Prime Minister, has not been lost on the human representatives. Jupiter is the only significant remaining settlement in the Sol System, and the nearest to Earth and Mars, two planets lost over a decade ago.
“Vruan Prime Minister Tthia Milish led the discussion,” Daina continued. Burke was impressed at how accurately she pronounced the alien names, smoothly incorporating the stutters common in the alien language. “Repeated sympathy was offered to the humans over the loss of their home planet. The Vruan Prime Minister proposed a renewal of the current aid agreements that are nearing the end of their terms, repeating the importance of showing compassion to the billions of human refugees that lost their homes from the dross invasion. Negotiations took an unfortunate turn, however, when they reached the second topic of the summit.”
The display changed to recorded footage of the meeting. Burke gradually grew tense as he watched the Vruan Prime Minister speak. She was a well liked leader even among non-vruan races. Humans had a particularly close alliance with the vruans, something that other races were often jealous of. It was common to hear conspiracy theories and accusations of mutual racism between the two species: they were accused of allying so closely because they shared the same humanoid form and basic chemical needs, allowing them to inhabit the same planet. Most other races were not lucky enough to have another species that could do the same.
“What happened on Earth was a catastrophe,” Tthia Milish began shortly after the display switched to her. “We have achieved much in repairing the damage that was done, but we can no longer remain idle in face of the dross threat. Believe me when I say that my hearts bleed for the human families that have lost their home. It cannot be overstated that every human has lost something from the dross invasion, a phenomenon that is unique to the human race—I must remind all representatives here that there is no other race that are currently without their home planet, and that we must keep that in mind at all times.
“That said, we can ignore the danger of the dross presence no longer. The infestation of Mars is all the proof that we need. While the origin of the dross on Earth is still unknown, each investigation on Mars has come to the same conclusion: one ship, transporting the aliens for testing off-world, crashed into Mars. One ship carrying dross. No more than a few were released from that crash and that’s all it took to lose that entire planet. One ship.
“Every planet has something to fear from that fact. One ship and an entire home world may go the same way as Earth, no matter what precautions are put in place. Today we need to move forward and work together to eradicate the dross threat, no matter the cost.”
Burke closed his eyes. He suddenly wished that he was alone in the room. He knew
that ‘no matter the cost’ meant ‘the possibility that Earth will be lost forever’. The dross were heavily entrenched through the entire world, inhabiting an elaborate tunnel network. The lower levels of that network were yet to be explored and it was unknown just how deep the aliens had rooted themselves. To fully exterminate the aliens would be to render the planet permanently uninhabitable to any race.
“Debates continued for several hours before they became too heated to continue,” Oliver Black explained over footage from the summit. “Senator Langley Rinehart was the last to speak before the meeting erupted in hostilities.”
The presenter’s voice faded out as a man, Burke guessed to be Langley himself, was shown speaking to the gathered officials. The screen often jumped to show Tthia Milish, with a hand covering the grim look on her face, as the human’s words echoed throughout the chamber.
“You are trying to have a civil discussion about one of the most horrendous acts I have ever heard. No matter the cost?” Langley roared. “No matter the cost! You are currently debating whether or not to destroy the planet that birthed my race. Not yours! Mine! None of you have even considered the implications of what that would mean. None among you have considered what it would be like if it was your home planet instead and we, the humans, were happily debating whether or not to obliterate your home. I know of that for certain, because we would not be having this conversation for one moment if you had.”
The grumbling that had begun to spread throughout the room burst into a chaotic uproar when the senator sat back down. The footage continued for a few more seconds and then cut back to the news anchors. They discussed the summit for a few more minutes but Burke had stopped listening. He was angry at all of them. The human senator had appealed to the emotion of the representatives instead of dealing with the facts, purposely ignoring how delicately the Vruan Prime Minister had begun the discussion. But then Burke was also furious at the foreign diplomats for broaching the subject, so casually judging the proposed methods to wipe Earth clean.
He was, however, angriest at himself. He knew that the aliens were correct. Milish was right. Despite how carefully Earth was monitored, Burke was surprised that the dross had not yet been taken and used to destroy another world. He sat at the table and felt the guilt and fury run through him for failing to protect his home world. He pushed his plate away. Suddenly, he wasn’t hungry.
“Captain?” Rylan said.
“What?” Burke snapped.
“The food’s good sir.”
The comment caught him off guard. For a brief moment, he forgot about the news report and simply stared at the pilot. He nodded once and then tried to bury himself in more thought. They had just completed their current job and they had no new leads on the files on display in his room. He pulled his plate back toward him and focused on the contracts he had already completed since they purchased the new ship.
The first few jobs had been thieves like Taggus. The bounties included a bonus for the apprehension of the criminals but were mainly interested in a speedy retrieval of their stolen property. Such contracts were common but expired quickly, since stolen goods were often sold off as quickly as possible. Cass had found the highest paying ones that took full advantage of their new ship’s impressive speed. It was during those jobs that they amassed a significant amount of money for emergencies and also learned that they would need a pilot. Cass began the search for Rylan while Burke moved on to other jobs.
With money set aside, he was able to focus on jobs that most bounty hunters wouldn’t take: murderers and low ranking criminals, those who preyed on lower class families that could barely pay enough for their bounty to be posted, never mind fulfilled. Burke did those jobs for free and worked for the satisfaction of righting a wrong. The victories were small and gave peace to only a handful of people at a time, but it was enough for him. He felt like he had finally reclaimed his old life since he came back from the dead.
Burke stopped slavers on newly colonized planets. He tracked them after handing in a higher profile contract that was out on a leader of a slaver ship. The job had been the first time they used the weapons on their new vessel and they had been impressed with their power: they easily neutralized the larger transport ship and then Burke had boarded it, carving his way through the lower decks and to his target at the ship’s command room. He had shot to kill, not wound, the guards he came across as he tore through the vessel. He gave no mercy to slavers.
Cass collected a wealth of information from the battered ship’s records. They managed to track down seven slavers on newly colonized worlds before they realized they had been compromised. Burke found them stealing children from new settlements and, in one case, rounding up entire towns into bulky ships like the one they had destroyed. He had stopped them, killed them, and then moved on without showing his face. The only recognition he ever got was in short news reports and speculation of an unknown mercenary or vigilante.
He finished his meal as he reflected on the final job they had done before hiring Rylan. He looked over at the pilot and then leaned back in his chair.
“Cass?”
“Yes Jack?” her voice filled the room.
“Did you have something planned for our next job?” he asked.
Rylan looked up from across the table. The news on the screen behind him had reverted back to local reports. Oliver Black was presenting stories from the planet below them.
“A few in mind,” Cass answered. “I’ve been vetting them for the usual standards.”
“No corporate executives that stole money and went missing. No sense catching a rich asshole who stole from another rich asshole because now he’s only a little less rich,” Burke recited.
“No deserters from the military,” Cass chimed back.
“How long have you two been doing this?” Rylan asked. Burke looked up and found the pilot regarding them strangely.
“A few years now,” Burke lied. “Cass and I go back further than that though. We worked together while I was still a mercenary. It’s where we made most of our money.”
Rylan nodded once but still had the odd look in his eyes. Not for the first time Burke wondered if the pilot’s reaction to Cass might cause problems. It was unusual for an AI to be unrestricted and unheard of to be called a partner or a person rather than a tool. So far they had functioned without any incident. He wondered if Cass had been speaking much to the man.
“We’re still getting our name out there,” Burke added.
“Which brings us to our next job, actually,” Cass said. “I was thinking we should take a high profile posting. Something difficult. We’ll do it for the fame. The money won’t be unwelcome either.”
Burke considered her proposal. Before changing his name to Jack Porter, Burke Monrow was becoming well known in the galaxy. Many of their better jobs came directly to him or through Geoff, bypassing the public postings and paying extravagant sums of credits. The funds would be good to have more equipment or a backup ship if the current one was damaged during a battle.
“I agree,” he said out loud. “What do you have in mind?”
To Burke’s surprise, Rylan remained in the room and listened to them going over potential contracts. They discussed navigating the warp gates between systems and how long it would take to reach the different locations marked in the candidates. Most of the head hunting contracts required extensive use of Cass’s capabilities: hacking through surveillance networks, warp gate passport logs, and facial recognition scans. She had already completed rudimentary scans for the targets in their suspected systems, resulting in tens of thousands of possible matches for them to sort through.
“This is more complicated than I thought it would be,” Rylan said.
Burke gave a short laugh. He was surprised that the pilot was so interested; it was the most he remembered the man speaking since he arrived on the ship.
“It’s difficult to find someone in the billions of people out here,” Cass explained. “Hunters like us are use
ful because of that. Investigators are usually chained to certain planets and systems. They don’t have the authority to officially move around like we can.”
“Officially?” Rylan asked.
“Well, what we do isn’t always legal,” Burke said. “Nor is it really illegal. It’s a gray area. One that society might want to be rid of, but we’re still a necessity.”
Burke resumed his conversation with Cass. Rylan looked toward the news screen while they reviewed information on the terminals built around the table—they were finally being used for their intended purpose. Burke was barely paying attention to the news when Rylan broke into the conversation.
“How about that?” he said.
“How about what?” Burke replied.
“On the news. I mean, we’re here already. They’re talking about Liveria.”
Burke turned to the screen. He heard the volume of the report increase and guessed it was Cass’s doing. Oliver Black was still reporting on local news from the planet.
“Once again, the following images may be disturbing for some viewers.”
Warning or not, Burke saw that the report had been dramatized as much as possible. There were many close up shots on mutilated humans and vruans, both left dead in the damp streets of the city below. Legs and arms were missing and, in one case, a whole head. Some of the corpses had been shot, others looked to have been stabbed. Each one looked to have been cut up after they had been killed.
“The latest in a spree of murders,” Oliver Black’s voice over began. “Authorities are exploring all possible leads but it is currently believed that it is the work of two escaped convicts that were undergoing volunteer experiments at Spectrum Industries in an exchange for a reduced sentence. The man and woman are Shaw and Lumen Greer. They are extremely well armed and believed to be currently hiding in the lower streets of the northern quadrant. Any information on their whereabouts will be rewarded.”
The report continued with an interview with a police investigator issuing the typical warnings about being safe when out in the city at night, blissfully ignoring the fact that the lower levels were usually kept in a perpetual state of darkness. The recorded footage cut back to the live feed of Oliver Black at his news desk. He shook his head.
The Bounty Hunter: Resurrection Page 3