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Chapter One
Zyra Zanr awoke to a blaring shriek and fumbled angrily about the headboard of her bed. She jabbed a finger at a flickering control button and was relieved to hear her chronometer withdraw its wail. ‘A necessary evil,’ she thought, reluctantly admitting that without the chronometer’s noisy alarm setting, she would never rise from bed early in the mornings. No sooner than Zyra silenced the chronometer, her ship performed its routine morning mantra:
“Good Morning, Ms. Zanr,” said the ship computer in a deeply feminine, but utilitarian voice, causing Zyra to grunt and plop her head under her pillow. “It is oh five hundred hours interstellar time, chrono-date: see six-oh nine-two one-oh oh two oh. There are seventeen items logged in the ship’s daily maintenance report which are hereby listed in order of priority: Item One: Hadrian Shield Generator currently inoperable because of inactive power cell. Servicing is required. Item Two: Right dorsal fin was damaged at oh two hundred hours by interplanetary debris. Marginal damage sustained, but servicing prior to hyperspace travel is required. Item Three—” Zyra listened to the lengthy queue of items logged in the ship’s daily maintenance service report with scorn. Not that she had needed to hear the report. She was quite aware of the damage her ship had sustained since her hasty retreat from Selsus-18, the Class V planet where she had captured her last fugitive. Her life had been on a swift and steady decline ever since. She had failed to apprehend a list of fugitives, not the least of which was Captain Rador of the J-Sector Corsairs. In the process, she had stared death repeatedly in the face and come away only with her skin in tact. Zyra was convinced she had escaped her doom only because she knew the universe hated her. She would have to endure a lot more punishment before it would ever tire of her presence. If there were a chance that Zyra would get her life back on track, it would take more than just a fistful of money. What she needed was a complete restructuring of time and space as well as a little bit of good luck thrown in for good measure. Since that wasn’t likely to happen anytime soon, Zyra knew she would have to cope with living as best she could. Fatigued as Zyra was, she knew she couldn’t go back to sleep if she wanted to and moaned from the long list of ‘to dos’. Zyra groggily drew the sheets from her legs and rose from bed with a yawn, all the while being bombarded with the ship computer’s salvo of work items: “--Ixion Starboard Gun Battery Number Six and Number Seven are inoperable due to damage received on chrono-date: see six-oh nine-one seven-oh oh two oh. Item Seventeen: ETHER-Comm message system is low on resources. Estimated time of projected system failure: impending. Updating Captain’s log for chrono-date: see six-oh nine-two one-oh oh two oh. One item logged in Captain’s Daily Report. Two long-range transmissions from I-Sector-seven seven six in the Maltis system received by ETHER-Comm Reception Band. No further items to report. Have a pleasant day, Ms. Zanr.” “Pleasant day, right,” groaned Zyra while she mimed an android’s stiff gait toward the adjacent quarters that served as her shower. There she removed her undergarments and stepped inside the receptacle where the showerhead was. With a single verbal command, a cascade of water, perfectly set to the desired temperature, fell on her ivory flesh. The solace Zyra often found with a simple shower was lost to a fuming cloud. She let her head hang low, allowing a stream of hot water to run down her golden tresses like a gushing river of angry tears. The scars Zyra had received in battle were as evident on her body as they were in her demeanor. One notably grievous scar ran down the length of her left shoulder. It was the first of many scars she had received over her life—a scar caused by youthful arrogance. It would only be a matter of time before she received her next scar. Only a few days ago, Zyra locked horns with Captain Rador and had paid a heavy price for it. She had risked more than any sensible person would have in trying to apprehend the most elusive man in the Three Galaxies. Only she desperately needed the money that his capture would provide, and had decided that it was worth the risk to pursue him. Her starship, justly named Helship-II, after the ancient Norse goddess of death for its lethal weaponry, had been severely damaged when she had confronted Captain Rador in transit to the world Asphixis where he had been hiding from the InterGalactic Police for several months. In that battle, where she pitted Helship-II’s sophisticated weapons systems against those of Rador’s vastly more powerful ship, she had nearly been killed. Zyra had unfinished business with Captain Rador. Unfortunately, her finances for such a difficult operation had run precariously thin. Without a substantial amount of money, she could not repair her ship or continue to pursue Captain Rador, so she was forced to allow him to go into hiding again while she figured out a way to get some easy money (if such a thing as ‘easy money’ existed for someone with a moral dilemma). When Zyra finished washing herself, she left the shower and hastily put on a fresh set of underclothing before slipping into her smart-suit. The black, skintight outfit allowed her encounter-suit (an exoskeletal arrangement of high-tech machinery and 52nd century body armor), to detect even the slightest variation of her bio-signs—a most vital instrument during her ‘hunts’. Zyra made her way back to her sleeping quarters and sat at the small desk that doubled as her makeshift office. She touched a sliver of azure light cutting through the darkness before her, causing a holographic grid to appear in the air. “Coffee, Cuban, black, no sugar,” she said, commanding the ship computer to prepare her usual breakfast. After a blip, a hum, another blip, followed by a brief buzzing noise, the nozzle in a small food dispenser on her desk filled a dispensable pink polystyrene cup with a steaming hot, black liquid. Zyra took the cup in hand, then a quick sip of its contents, savoring the piquant flavor of the drink, before putting the cup down. She rubbed the lingering sleepiness from her eye with one hand while she slid the holographic icons in the air before her with her fingers on the other. She pressed one of the glowing icons that called up a visual list of the InterGalactic Police’s most wanted list. “Computer, play recorded ETHER-Comm messages for chrono-date: see six-oh nine-two one-oh oh two oh,” commanded Zyra, having nearly forgotten about her received transmissions. “Playing ETHER-Comm Message Number One,” said the computer in its dull, almost aristocratic speech before another more animated voice segued with the computer’s: “Hey, Zyra. I know you’re beside yourself right now. Sue me for calling you for the umpteenth time, but I am a persistent bastard, as you always say. Hell, you know that already. Still, for all my haggling, I can’t get you to make even a single transmission. I know! I know! You told ol’ Hunter here that you’ve got everything under control and to give it a rest. Well, I can’t. How the hell do you expect me to keep a level head while you’re out there doing whatever it is you do, rattling the nerves of every fugitive in the cosmos? If it makes you feel better, let me tell you that you’ve finally won the gold. Every assassin from this side of the universe to the Andromeda Galaxy has your number now. Worse yet, you’ve finally pissed off the IGP. They’ve officially tagged you public enemy number one. In your defense, I told the others back at the barn that you’re just a damn overly-committed zealot. A hopelessly desperate, overly-committed zealot, but a zealot no less. There’s a saying, ‘Give a man with a death wish a bottle of whisky and a loaded gun, you get a dead body. Give a martyr a quote from scripture and a pocket full of prayers and you get a room full of corpses.’” Zyra winced from Hunter’s harsh words as he interrupted his monologue to let out a sigh. “Anyway, I’m sitting here alone in my room on Earth-III wondering if your newfound enthusiasm to bring all the evildoers in the galaxy to justice is because of that Zaragos incident. If it is, I advise you to slow down and take yourself a breather before you get yourself killed pursuing some damn vendetta. Just to be on the safe side, I’ll be looking into the whole Zaragos matter myself as insurance that you don’t do anything regrettably stupid. Consider me your guardian angel. Anyway, that’s all I’ve got to say for now. But I’ll be waiting to hear from you. Be safe out there, Zyra. I’m counting the days till you get back. Love you.” “End of ETHER-Com Message Number One.” Zaragos. Zyra hated the word. For Zyra, Zaragos was synonymous with death. The only thing that troubled her more than hearing the word Zaragos was to find out that the man she loved was risking his life to pry into her business. Hunter, you damn fool. You don’t know when to leave enough alone. Zyra had no chance to contemplate the matter further before the second message began to play. “Playing ETHER-Comm Message Number Two.” “Mrydzzzz szzzzz zzzz…” Zyra let out an aggravated sigh when the second message garbled to an unintelligible hum. “Warning. ETHER-Comm System low on resources. Language decoder has failed.” “Computer, reset ETHER-Comm audio parameters to default settings and play back received transmission number two,” Zyra ordered. “Warning. ETHER-Comm System low on resources. Language decoder has failed.” Pleasant day. Right. It’ll be the best day of my life if I’m not captured by space pirates and sold into slavery. Zyra forgot her frustration to assume a curious demeanor when she noticed a peculiar image on her holographic display. She read the criminal profile with more than casual attention, forcing her eyes over every word of the report: IGP Criminal Profile: Fal L. J. Orono. Human. Male. Asian descent. Age 33. Blood Type: B. Birthplace: Zurkis-2, West Water Region, Sheldik Colony. Occupation: Miner. IGP violations: Vagrancy, Aggravated Assault, Robbery, Domestic Battery, Illegal Arms Sales, Possession of Contraband, Child Smuggling, Trafficking of IGF information. Never convicted on charges. Acquitted on insanity defense. Suspected affiliate of Ortig-Boru crime family. Most serious offense: Suspect accused of conspiring with Xorghkan Terrorists to sabotage the Dilidium mines on the planet Hephaestus. The event resulted in the deaths of over 6000 miners on chrono-date: C6-03.16.0017. Note: Suspect is extremely violent and unpredictable. Last seen in V-sector near the planet Rif not long after the Hephaestus massacre. SUSPECT WANTED DEAD OR ALIVE. Amount of reward for information leading to arrest of suspect is subject to sensitivity of information. However, the reward for the physical capture of suspect is currently set at 80,000 I.S.C. Quite a rap sheet you have there, Mr. Orono. Definitely worth the money. I wonder where you’re hiding? Zyra touched a series of icons on the holographic monitor in front of her with a determined squint. A message popped up on the screen. CLASSIFIED. INFORMATION RESTRICTED TO IGP TOP LEVEL OPERATIVES ONLY. What do you mean classified? It’s a basic chronology of his offenses for god’s sake! Zyra again manipulated the holographic icons on her screen, but more briskly than before. CLASSIFIED. INFORMATION RESTRICTED TO IGP TOP LEVEL OPERATIVES ONLY. You’ve got to be kidding me! She tried to retrieve the information through a backdoor in the IGP information system. Again, the familiar message popped up on the screen. CLASSIFIED. INFORMATION RESTRICTED TO IGP TOP LEVEL OPERATIVES ONLY. Frustrated by her failure to obtain Fal Orono’s criminal history records, Zyra folded her arms and pursed her lips in deep thought. If the InterGalactic Police want to play hardball, so can I. Zyra toggled a long queue of icons on her screen, bypassing the IGP information system altogether in favor of another approach. “Now, I’m getting somewhere,” she said, allowing herself a small grin as Fal Orono’s school records filled the holographic monitor grid: Gamynon-Alpha Secondary School Student Records: Fal L.J. Orono. Human. Male. Asian descent. Age 16. Blood Type: B. Birthplace: Zurkis-2, West Water Region, Sheldik Colony. School History: Zurkis-2 Grammar School for the Gifted, Zurkis-2 Primary School, Gamynon-Alpha Intermediate and Secondary schools. Student profile log entry #307: “A remarkably brilliant student. Regularly demonstrates signs of genius in interstellar mathematics and chemistry. However, for all his remarkable abilities, Fal shows very little discipline in class and incites his fellow students to misconduct. Some instructors believe his long history of poor health has diminished his drive to excel. Fal has taken a liking to the school’s bad elements. With a bit of administrative assistance, I think we can get young Fal back on the right track.” Gamynon-Alpha Secondary School Dean R.J. Zool, chrono-date: C6-09.11.0003. So you’ve a long history of poor health, do you, Mr. Orono? Interesting. Zyra touched an icon on the screen to enlarge Orono’s school medical records. Gamynon-Alpha Secondary School Student Medical Records: Fal L.J. Orono. Human. Male. Asian descent. Age 17. Blood Type: B. Birthplace: Zurkis-2, West Water Region, Sheldik Colony. On chrono-date: C6-04.26.0004 student was forced to leave school without graduate degree due to acute Sereptitus-T Syndrome. Has been admitted to local hospital for treatment. A sense of euphoria struck Zyra as she realized she was getting closer to solving the puzzle of where Fal Orono was hiding. To figure out where he was, she first had to figure out who Fal Orono was. Zyra made it a point to never leave a stone unturned when working a case. No matter how seemingly insignificant or trivial a clue appeared, she always investigated it. This was how she had made a career of apprehending criminals who eluded even the most brilliant IGP detectives. Contrary to popular belief, thorough investigation of her targets (not her trigger finger!) was the reason for her success as an intergalactic bounty hunter. Searching for Fal Orono would prove to be no exception to the rule. So Zyra searched her ship’s computer database to give her a detailed summary of Sereptitus-T Syndrome. Upon discovery that Sereptitus-T Syndrome was a rare disease that few physicians or hospitals could treat, Zyra typed in the command for the computer’s search engine to retrieve information of all the local medical centers near the planet Rif that could treat Sereptitus-T patients and was surprised by the results. Interesting. There aren’t any. Why is that? After Zyra touched an icon on her screen, a catalogue of data regarding the planet Rif filled her vision. It was an exhaustive and seemingly pointless search. Zyra made a knit of her pale golden brows in frustration. It was her intent to narrow down her search of Fal Orono to those sparsely populated worlds that possessed treatment centers for his disease where he could also hide from observant eyes. She had assumed that there was a logical reason for the IGP report stating that Fal Orono had been seen on Rif. She didn’t doubt the credibility of the report, but her presumption of where Fal Orono was hiding was now in conflict with the planetary data on her computer monitor. Why would the IGP say that Orono was spotted on Rif when Rif is a world incapable of sustaining human life, or, more importantly, void of medical centers or doctors that can treat his illness? No doubt the IGP had searched Rif extensively for Fal Orono and had come up short. She had obviously missed some important clue, and as a result had come to a dead end tracking Orono just like the IGP. Zyra touched an icon on the holographic monitor to enlarge the topographic map of Rif only to notice a much smaller object in the lower right corner of the screen. The object was almost unnoticeable except for the numerical data indicating the longitudinal orientation of an orbiting satellite. Pressing the icon again, she was presented with a detailed map of the moon, Ziggiris. Ziggiris? I wonder… Zyra typed another keyword search, and upon reading the file, realized immediately that she had struck gold. Encyclopedia Tri-galactica entry found. Ziggiris: The moon Ziggiris was once a thriving colony for humans before the Human-Arlarion [H-A] war erupted in the quadrant over three hundred years ago. Human miners first settled on Ziggiris when it was discovered that the moon was rich in chrysium ore. The Human Confederation of Planets used Ziggiris as a military outpost during the H-A War. In the wake of several bloody incursions against the colonists by the Arlarion Armada, Ziggiris has since been abandoned by its original inhabitants. Ziggiris Entry #2: “The Historical Significance of the Moon Ziggiris.” Orbiting the world Rif, the moon Ziggiris is a densely formed globe rich in minerals such as: mercury, lithium, zinc, cobalt, and other metallic ores. But most prevalent of these minerals found on Ziggiris is the radioactive ore chrysiumite-saltrate, or chrysium. Throughout the galaxy, chrysium has long been recognized as a potent form of energy for powering the reactor cores of intergalactic vessels. The colonists on Ziggiris discovered that in its unprocessed state, chrysium possesses healing properties and can be used for medicinal purposes to treat certain rare diseases such as Hague’s Disease and Sereptitus-T Syndrome. Jackpot! A wide grin formed on Zyra’s face. She had uncovered the final piece of the puzzle. It was safe for Zyra to conclude from her research that the reason the IGP failed to locate Fal Orono was because they thought he was hiding on Rif, when all this time he was holed up somewhere on Ziggiris. She didn’t know why Orono was spotted on Rif for any other reason than he might have briefly taken up refuge there by necessity. But she was willing to bet her ship that Orono, a former miner and chemistry student, knew how to extract chrysium from the lowest depths of Ziggiris and thereby used it to treat himself. That was to assume, however, that he had somehow gained the knowledge of how to turn unprocessed chrysium into medicine. It was a stretch to think that he might still have been hiding on Ziggiris after three years on the run. Yet, it was the only lead she had and she would have to pursue it. Besides, the red light on the ETHER-Comm management system alert in the upper left corner of her computer holographic display grid told her she very badly needed the money his bounty would provide. Okay, Mr. Orono. I’m itching for a good fight right about now. Let’s see what you’ve got. Need to read more? |
 Enter the World of the Rogue Hunter!
ROGUE HUNTER: QUEST OF THE HUNTER |
