FIVE

The central docking hub could put a beehive to shame. Proximity sensors and networked autopilot systems allowed the thousands of arriving and departing ships to move as if they were part of a single organism. Rust buckets from the twenty-fifth century glided gracefully alongside the opulent top-of-the-line private yachts of the rich. Military tug frigates applied thrust to the delicate maneuvering of a Federal Alliance Dreadnaught.

The sight always reminded Jack of the simulations he had seen of aquatic life on Earth. Enormous, yawning whales being flanked and surrounded by schools of tiny fish. The place was a real melting pot, which helped Jack's abomination of a space craft blend right in.

The Odin was a custom job. So custom, in fact, that it couldn't be fit into any proper vessel classification. Upon arriving at any station, the docking system would identify the ship as "Assorted Debris." It wasn't necessarily a trashy ship. The Odin possessed a few state of the art innards. It had started as a simple interceptor/fighter, swift and sleek. When he was ready to expand, Jack gutted the tiny craft, keeping only its cockpit and afterburners. He re-routed the booster jets to face outwards, instead of aft. The result was a tiny craft that could spin faster than it was meant to fly forward. The only limitation to its turning radius was the G-force that its crew could handle.

The ship's main body, which held cargo, humble quarters, and a common area, was comprised of the bastardized command bridge of a mining cruiser. After making a sly and rather illegal deal with an alliance prison warden, Jack had also managed to procure and install one top of the line force-field holding cell, in the likely event that he ended up carrying uncooperative cargo.

With the ship's intended engines divided into a configuration that could make it spin like a top, its new source of thrust was a cunningly re-worked energy cannon, salvaged from the scraps of a battle between behemoth ships. Originally intended for planetary bombardment and capital ship punishment, the cannon was now mounted backwards, and released powerful bursts of aft energy which accelerated the ship to competitive speeds with only a single pulse. A sustained blast would likely accelerate the vessel beyond the point of staying in one piece. This form of propulsion also had the pleasant side effect of potentially incinerating any unwelcomed tailgaters.

Jack stepped up to the facial ID scanner at the terminal that held his ship, showed it his tired mug, and said "assorted debris, dock A-26-26-5."

"Welcome spacefarer," the computer replied, and the doors parted. The trio stepped into the corridor beyond. Terminal Tango Richter was packed with corner stores and vendors, hoping to trap weary travelers that were willing to overpay for blatantly synthetic foods.

"If anyone wants snacks for the road, now's the time."

On Jack's command, Eden started wandering in the direction of a shop called "Inverti-great." Arissa noticed this, caught up with the girl, and pulled her back on course.

"No, no. You don't want that stuff."

"Why not? I'm hungry."

"Nothing but tentacles on the menu." Arissa shuttered. "We're also in a rush."

"But he said—"

"He was joking. You've got plenty of food on your ship, right Jack?"

"Right." If Jack was being honest with himself, he had no idea what Arissa had just asked him.

They stepped out of the bustling corridor and onto a wide open landing pad that was covered in assorted piles of cargo containers. Then, there it stood. The Odin. Something about the sight of it always made Jack's heart flutter. It was the closest thing he had to a child.

"Hey sweetie," he said. "How was your day?"

"Don't call me sweetie," a gruff voice said, from behind a stack of "perishable" cargo, addressed to Inverti-great. The owner of the voice revealed himself. "We barely know each other."

Jack's gun was out and pointed an appropriately deadly direction in a second. The grim man was standing directly between the Odin and it's owner.

"Where's the girl?" The grim man asked. His gun, a much larger one than Jack's, was poised to take one or three of Jack's vital organs out of commission.

Jack, genuinely confused, turned to look behind him. Neither Arissa or Eden were there, as they had been a second ago. They were both quick as cats, apparently. Like any proper method actor, Jack used this surprise in his performance.

"The girl? I thought she was with you! Oh, this is bad. Her parents are going to kill us. You know how she likes to drink." Then, Jack saw his next play. Arissa was creeping up behind the grim man. Jack revved up his motor mouth to keep the mysterious enemy distracted. "And good god, boys these days. That girl is going to get herself into so much trouble if she keeps sneaking out like this."

When she was close enough, Arissa tapped the grim man on the shoulder with the muzzle of her gun. The man spoke first.

"If you tell me to 'drop it' I might have to laugh at you."

Arissa rolled her eyes and looked to Jack, who shrugged.

"Why don't we just talk, then?" Arissa sounded mighty diplomatic, considering her kill-shot stance.

"Just stay out in the open pointing guns at each other until the authorities notice?"

"You're the one who said you wouldn't drop it," Jack said.

"No, but I could lower it. How does everyone feel about that?"

Jack nodded, Arissa backed off, and the man pointed death at a less threatening angle. Then, like some kind of magician with terrible timing, Eden came out from behind the cargo container that was concealing her. The man brought his gun high, pointed right at her, and the standoff got started all over again. A collection of "Whoa!" and various expletives exploded out of the group.

"You call this talking, buddy?" Jack was getting completely and utterly sick of this dance.

"Whatever you want to call it," the man said. "We could quit now if you let me take the girl."

"What do you want with her?"

"I want to throw her a birthday party, what the hell do you think?"

"Alright never mind the 'what.'" Jack stepped into a slow strafe, moving around the enemy and drawing any potential fire away from Eden. "Who hired you?"

"What makes you so sure I'm not self employed?"

"I guess you don't quite look like an entrepreneur type."

Arissa let out a chuckle. "Yeah, is that a leather jacket?"

"Let's reverse course for some niceties." Jack was trying to ignore how tired his arm was getting. Sometimes holding a gun was harder work than firing one. "How about a name?"

"I don't know his name," the man said. "He wants the girl and that's all I know."

"Not your employer's, mister talent show. Yours."

"I like Talent Show, but you should call me Kane if we're going to be friends."

A female voice, seemingly buzzing out of Kane's own body, interrupted the soiree. "Mercs approaching. Time to get wise or die arguing."

"Who the hell was—" Jack was not permitted the pleasure of finishing his question, as a precision shot zipped straight through Kane's weapon, leaving a behind hole of molten metal, rendering the death-tool useless.

Jack had lived through his share of "oh shit" moments. Bounty hunters basically ate shocking occurrences like this for breakfast. What he had yet to experience, until now, was a suddenly urgent situation that left him so conflicted on how to feel. The guy that had been pointing a gun at him was basically defanged in a flash.

Great.

On the flip side, a quick survey of his surroundings revealed no attacker.

Bad.

Arissa confirmed Jack's fear when she started shooting at three targets that had previously been invisible. The black ops mercs were back again.

Very bad.

So, keeping up with bounty hunter tradition, Jack let loose the only appropriate response for times such as these.

"Oh shit." He tucked and rolled behind one of the cargo containers, wondering exactly how many firefights he would be involved in today, and if he had a shot at the galactic high score for such a figure. When his place of cover was utterly lit up with weapons fire, Jack realized that his chosen hiding place must have been in plain sight of one of the mercs. He dropped to his stomach and army crawled to the next crate.

"Jack!" Arissa called out from wherever she was entrenched. "Boot it up!"

Hoping like hell he wasn't currently in the crosshairs of an invisible merc, Jack reached into his pocket and pressed the Odin's remote activator. Its oversized engine started to heat up, just as its maneuvering thrusters sparked, twitched, and self diagnosed their flight-ready status. The standby lights in the cockpit turned on, and Jack knew that every console and computer in the Odin was waking up for another beautiful day. Hopefully, a fresh pot of Hype was already being brewed.

He was ready to make a desperate sprint for the loading doors when once again that annoying, nagging sense of responsibility struck him.

"Ugh," he grumbled. "Hey, girl!"

"What?" Arissa cried out.

"Not you, the other one!"

"My name's Eden!" The girl said, from an undisclosed location.

"Can you get to my ship?"

"Which one is it?"

Jack hated describing the Odin to other people. Even though he viewed it as a work of art, there was only one word that universally helped people find it. "It's the one that looks like garbage!"

After a moment, Eden admitted to Jack that she was pinned down. When she asked why everyone was shooting at her, Jack simply replied,

"Life will be a lot easier if you don't ask that question!" He ran towards cover, closer to the Odin. All around, he tried to trace some of the enemy fire back to its source. As he slid behind a new crate, he caught a lucky break and managed to triangulate the position of one of the mercs. He took aim at the spot on the balcony and released three slugs.

Direct hit. The deadly impact of Jack's bullets decloaked the merc and sent him tumbling over the railing. Instead of falling, he entered the docking hub's zero-g environment and started drifting helplessly away.

It was the last of Jack's luck, unfortunately, as the Mercs soon learned to move immediately after firing. Arissa let out a sharp cry of pain, and Jack knew that she had been hit. He could still hear her weapon firing, though, which meant the wound was likely only minor. Still, they were in a losing fight, and couldn't afford any losses.

Suddenly, Jack's reflexes almost caused him to stab Kane in his neck as the man slid behind the same crate for cover.

"This is my cover," Jack said. "Go find your own." He fired a few more hapless shots in the general direction of the enemy.

Kane only held out his empty hand. "Give me your gun."

"Yeah right. Want my severed head, too?"

"I'm serious." Kane pointed to the obtrusive cybernetic implant that covered his eye. "I can see them."

Jack thought it over for a moment. If Kane was telling the truth, it would really help turn the tides, but handing over his gun seemed so… sacrilegious. Fortunately, "Option C" dawned on him.

"You point, I shoot."

"What?" Kane was completely baffled. Jack took the man's hand, made it into a fist, then forcibly extended its pointer finger and thumb. The result was the imaginary weapon of choice that kids used on each other in schoolyards across the universe.

"You can't be serious," Kane said.

Jack simply pointed to his face, showing its distinct lack of a smile. With that, Kane took a peek over their cover, searching for a target. "Alright," he said. "One, two—"

Both men sprung up, synchronized in their movement. Kane pointed his imaginary finger-gun down range, at the neighboring docking port. Jack, without even looking where he was shooting, lined up the shot entirely based on Kane's pointing. He fired. The two men ducked behind their cover once again.

"You got him," Kane said.

"I know."

"That was insane."

Jack shrugged. "Ready for another one?"

And so, the game went on. Kane playing pretend "cops and robbers," Jack laying waste to invisible targets. Jack wasn't quite at the point of trusting the newcomer, but as of now, the guy's eye was mighty useful.

"By the way, I'm gonna need a lift out of here," Kane said, standing and pointing out another enemy. He twitched his wrist, simulating the kickback of a real firearm, just for effect.

"That's fine but you're not getting inside my ship. Can you breathe in space?"

Kane, remaining grim, pointed his imaginary gun right at Jack's head. Jack almost fell for it, but caught himself before he looked straight down the barrel of his own gun. He waved the weapon in Kane's direction. "Very funny."

"Boys!" Arissa dropped into view, onto her back. She raised her rifle over her head, deflecting an invisible melee attack, then drove her foot into thin air, disrupting the cloak of a merc that had been standing right over her, knocking him back. "They're getting aggressive!"

"She's right," Kane said, not even flinching when a barrage of fire hit his cover. "Their numbers are too great. We withdraw, now. How about that ride?"

"Compliment his clothing," the strange, disembodied female voice was back. "Human's like to be flattered.

Kane shook his head in response. "Not now, Talia."

"Maybe tell him that you like his gun," the voice sounded sarcastic, but it was tough for Jack to tell without having any body language to read.

"Talia, please!" Kane shouted as he stood from hiding and pointed out another merc. Jack rose to the occasion, but his gun only clicked.

"Now we have two toy guns," the voice, apparently named Talia said. "This is going to be so much fun."

Jack looked towards the Odin just in time to see Eden making her way onto the ship. "Nice work, girl." He then looked to Kane. "See you later, buddy." He broke into a sprint across the open platform as the floor beneath him ignited with a stream of weapons fire. He zigged and zagged, trying to make himself the most difficult target that the mercs had ever seen.

"Arissa!" He shouted. "We're leaving!"

"Got it!"

Jack could tell by the sound of her voice that she wasn't far behind. Suddenly, Kane was back. With incredible speed, he tackled empty air not ten feet in front of Jack. Landing on what was now clearly a merc that had been directly in Jack's path, the one-eyed grim man drove his fist towards the ground, impacting the merc's face and shattering his cloaking device.

Finally giving in, Jack pulled Kane to his feet as he ran and said, "Alright. That bought you a one-way ticket."

"You're joking," Talia said. "That was round-trip material."

Panting as he ran, Jack declared that they would have to negotiate later. He thought he heard Talia say something about "premier frequent flier status," but he was too distracted to focus on her words.