Life as a Bounty Hunter.

It's quiet out here in the middle of nowhere, especially at night. I sit forward on my rock, and look into the fire. In some part, I can see myself reflected back at me. After a time spent in the wilderness, even the most territorial minibull will leave you alone. I like it. It's peaceful. But you know some times even the most peaceful spots end up coming into dispute. Most times, its the usual dirty no-good ICC rep who tries to tell me to move to another spot, because some muckity with a corp badge wants to survey the countryside that I like to camp in. Nope, not even the big game wants to mess with this Hunter tonight. Borgs are too far south to worry me. Public reports showed no alien ground movements for this sector either. I'd like to think it was smart planning on my part.

For being a hunter, I was never good with a rifle. Got this eye problem, see. Besides, don't really see much 'a need for one.

I found this scuttled hulk of some lower atmo-craft that skipped across Milky Way like a stone across some body of water. It left a nice trail of scrap too. I had a job I needed to get done, and some punk with a funky new pig sticker, was hiding out inside it with his gang. My mission parameters were pretty clear on the issue. Mr. Johnson wanted his toys back, and didn't care how indiscreet it would be handled.

I wasn't as lucky then as I am now, when it came to the good-ol rough and tumble. He came at me high, and while I didn't want to kill the poor kid, but I certainly wanted to teach the bastard a lesson. In the fight I gave him a good whack with my punk thumpa on his weapon hand, and it shattered the blade against the interior bulkhead. What I didn't know is that his stolen knife was filled with some icky nanogoo that sprayed onto my visor. It ate through the metaplast and well, there you have it. Ever since then, been no good with anything ranged. No depth perception, the doctors in Tir told me. Bah, oh well...

Besides, nothing in this world feels better than blunt force trauma to bone structure. Especially in a world where you can do it over and over and over. I try to be a good ol' boy though, I really do. Sometimes though, I just can't help it. And more than half of these poor suckers deserve a good thrashing anyway. So I sent the poor loser to reclaim.

Remembering back, when I ran with my old pack, the BUBBA clan. Funny how little things can lead into interesting beginnings. I think it was some low rent science geek with a low profile job that put in the order for me and my kin to be chipped in and spit out by some generic no-name genetics lab that later, got a little too greedy. An agent, four soldiers and I think a shade came in. They got a little bit rough and popped a few heads till they had got what they came for. The Fam and I broke out that night. We didn't much like it there to begin with. No worries, though. We salvaged up enough tech to get us all the standard ID and cyberlink to the mission terminals in Tir. The quickest work was in Nascence most of the time. But it gets old. There is only so much cross dimensional travelling you can do before it becomes old hat.

Ahh, the good old days! I remember them, fairly well too. Scratching my chin, I spit to my left and hope for an easy night. My ears still kinda ring from a ruckus three nights previous, and there was still some recovering from that.

Plenty of game here on Rubi-ka. Plenty that isn't poisonous or mutated in some god-awful way, and that's IF you're smart enough to look in the right spots.

You can tell I dont get out much. Too many people choke off all the big cities. They talk big and muscle up and cap each other off alot. Hell, I had done my share too. But I dont go back much anymore, unless I am feeling REALLY onery.

I roll a smoke, kick off my boots, and roll my head back. Yeah, its nice out here. I am free to dream out in the moonlit darkness. Some nights though, it can get so dark you cant even see the ends of your mits. Doesnt matter though, technology makes easy livin'. And, that's part of the problem these days.

Aint no damn cowboys left, not no more anyway. Pity too. When RK was beginning to get settled we had lots of 'em about. ICC scoped this planet out for Notum ores, and everyone and their mother signed on. But, that was before my time.

Yeah, you heard me. Technology is the root of all evil here. Fighting over land, calling whoziwatzit and his corporate mother and talking in this funny lingo that sounds like children fighting over a sandbox. It's all a big playground to them. Aint no one of them better than the other, not while everyone carries a gun and has a killranking. It's funny to watch them too. Spitting on and cussing each other out, while they call each other evil and corrupt. Every cookie cutter murderin' kid with a gun thinks he can own everything with enough money. They are chuckleheads, for the most part. Every now and again you find one worth keeping around, at least for a tale or two at night. But, a percentage of even them only wants to get their greasy paws on your gear.

Yeah, its quiet out here. Nobody bothers me much out in the bush. Every now and then I get a crack on the comm from my wife, calling me to strong arm a deal for her. She's a tough cookie that one, but she aint got eyes everywhere. Ironic how you fall in love with a one-eyed thug like me. I reckon it suits both us fine. More than one time she's had to haul my rear outta danger, or tweak my belt so I can pack and deliver a tougher punch. She's a good woman, she is. I wouldn't trade her for the world.

Ahava is part of the reason I am here too. Some malle-humping biologist is out here, checking the plants for narcotic properties. I been followin' him on foot ever since he left the last gridpoint. According to her, there is some 'special interest group' that has contact with a coven of nanofreaks. The gist of it was that it was that they were looking for some hokey nano-voodoo. But, I dont really deal with information. I leave that to my honey. I was relaying the situation to her not too long ago.

He had been digging about the grounds near what could only be described as a Cairn of some sort. A raw chunk of glowing blue crystal peaks out of the top of the rock mound. Near that was some sorta voodoo warning sign. With a shovel he had been tilling the area till he found what he was looking for. Been at it for the past 3 hours.

I reached for my spyglass after I noticed that lights were coming over the next ridge. A small shuttle, what looked like a V-thrust troop carrier, dropped searchlights over the site. I tuned in my transceiver which was linked to Ahava's comm. "Looks like we got company. Four men. One looks like a captain, and the rest are all in carb and look like rent-a-cops."

Her voice rose over the static. "Yep, those are our guys. Contact says they are doing a routine search of the area. Have you been seen?"

A water bucket that I had been keeping goes over the fire. A shower of red embers erupts two feet outta the pit, then dies. The ash cloud releases and I stifle a cough. With a quick flick I toss my smoke into the remains of the fire. "Nope, not a peep."

"Good. Watch them close. I am 3 clicks to the north. En route. How ya feelin' baby?" She always loved a little pep talk before a job. I shook out any pebbles that were in my boots, and strapped them back on.

With my only good eye, I panned in on her location. I couldn't see jack squat out here in the dark.

"I feel like vodka tonight, hun." She smiled; I know she did. "I am buying the first round. Can prolly call up the gang and have some good times tonight, if this all goes well."

She didn't answer. I knew what she was thinking. She was prolly saying something under her subvocal about counting chickens before the eggs.

The plan was simple. I go in and get their attention, while she sneaks in and makes off with the objective.

Yeah it sure is quiet out here. Aint another gridpoint or whompah for nearly 30 clicks southeast, towards Hope. Hell, I betcha I could launch a grenade into their entire encampment and blow the snot outta their entire contingent and aint no one gunna say #$%^&.

"I am in postition. Try not to die, this time. I had to have your clothes dry cleaned to get the blood out." Always thinking of me, heh. I panned across their dig site with my spyglass. You never know just how handy one of these antiques are, until you put them to the right use. But no worries. These guys are hush-hush. Omni would never send in Unicorns or anything to dig around in a clover patch that makes your head feel funny. Omni didn't work like that. No, you gotcher first stringers. They are true grit, and you can't deny that. No, these people were benchwarmers hoping to make the real team someday.

I stowed the spyglass into my ruck, took a swig from my flask, and headed out. I got about 30 yards from base when one of their Soldiers gotta bead on me.

"Evenin' kids, don't suppose you have a gamode on that ratcan, do ya? It's been a long day."

Guns sweep up. Not the fancy shmancy perenniums either. Div 9's, Gyroguns, and one of them had a shotty. I shook my head. It's a damn shame what people run with these days.

A brazen volley of shouting rolls from their troops. "Freeze! Don't come any closer, or we will open fire!"

"Hah, and I was just trying to make pleasant conversation, boys. Here, I tell ya what," My hands let go of my hammer, letting it slump to the ground. I still kept my ITD in my boot. My hands go up and two of them come forward. "Drop your weapons and lay flat onto the ground!"

"Why? I just wanna bless your can, is all. Cummon' fellas, I am sure we can work something out." A sarcastic look rolls across my face.

Obviously they dun wanna play nice. One of the soldiers takes my hammer and tosses it near the carrier.

I hear a crack in the darkness behind the Cairn. Ol' Sunshine is giving me a break. One of them turns around, and flashes a light back. The scientist snatches up some sorta metaplast case, and starts to get antsy. "Sirs, we really must be.."

"SHUT UP! I give the orders around here!"

The guy runs a wand down my side, but his backup aint paying attention. It beeps when it gets near my belt, and again at my boot. Two men split off from the group, while Cap'n Happy here looks up at me. I smile a wide toothy smile like I always do when I know I am about to break skulls. Even unarmed an Atrox is considered lethal.

I put a ham hock into his carbonum helmet, smashing his optics through the faceplate. He wont be going to reclaim pretty by the time I am done with him. With him off balance enough, I kick him onto a rock and grab my ITD outta my boot. I rammed it hard into the seams of his breastplate, till I hear a hard gasp come from his ventilator. The other soldier turns back, posts up and sends a hail off bullets that has me diving for cover. Not much out here I can hide behind but their tin can cruiser. Sparks fly off the hull, and I maneuver around the craft just long enough to grab ol' Faithful.

With a wide strafe, the Soldiers break right and left, leaving me precious few options. Hy body begins to stiffen like it does when it's time to do the dirty. White rings form around my knuckles, as I grip my weapon. I come from behind cover and chamber my swing to catch the first one across the chest. The breastplate snaps like wood and he crumples like he had a bad case of reclaim. Bullets begin to ricochet all around me, burning holes like savage constellations into the leather of my coat. Now I am angry as @#$^ and realize I gotta get me a new one.

I boil with rage and chase down their commander as he retreats into his getaway vehicle. He's fast, but not fast enough. With a sickening crunch I hammer down on his shoulder. Bullets spray at point blank, but biococoon is a lovely lovely thing.

That's when outta my side view, I catch a face full of shotty.

BOOM!!!!!

To tell you the reality of the situation, I wasn't really thinking of anything. But if I had, it would have been WTF. I could feel the heat and friction of high velocity lead impacting against my skull, blowing off my hat and sending me sprawling.

Biococoon saves the day. But it dont stop the kinetic knockback. My head is light, almost punch drunk from the nearly fatal blast. I hear a CHA-***** And something that sounds like a audible resonance feedback. In my heavy state, I feel a bolt of nanobots weakening me. Ransacked! In my nerves and my muscles I can feel them, crawling all over me like ants. Biting every inch of my skin and bones. It feels like I am on fire, and I drop to one knee.

He was a trader. Smart one too. Dress like em, and no one would know the difference. I almost wanna congratulate him. Fair play to the wise, yanno?

I get a second wind, and feel the cocoon wearing off. Next shot will send me to reclaim, thats for sure. I spit out a couple of pellets, and maybe a tooth, I don't know for sure because it all tastes like blood to me. "You pansy, is that the best you can do?" I grab the end of the barrel and bend it with my bare hands. Now, I know he wore a helmet but you can tell what his facial expression was. I stood up, while the trader fumbled his deprive nano. Weakened but not down, I brought my shin up between the man's legs with monster truck force. The shotty dropped to the ground and fired on its own, sending shrapnel and powder burns all over my left calf.

Staggering, I see the scientist close the hatch behind him. Yellow bastard! But, he wont get far.

I limp over, and grab my hammer from the ground again. I think to myself, I need a new calling in life. I hear the carrier's engines spark up, then die again. From inside the hull, I hear the reports of twin machine pistols. My girl done good. Sneaky too. She got in when no one was looking.

The bay door opens up again, and I can see her sillouette against the hard glow of the searchlight. I grab my hat, and spit more blood into the dust. "You certainly know how to make an entrance," She says to me. I am just a plain kinda 'trox, ya know? No need to really make a big deal outta little things.. you know, like using the latrine.

"Nah baby, you got me all wrong. I was just gettin' ready to introduce myself." I smile wide, and take another swig from my flask. The firewater burns as it cascades down my throat.

She cocks her head to the side, and laughs a little. "We should get going. By now the reclaimers will be talking over horn with their superiors, and we should leave before big brother shows up. Get in, I'm driving." She holsters her pistols and I throw the beast over my shoulder, and I take a deep breath. I squeeze what is left of my form into the vehicle after her. We get belted in, and my honey runs an interface hotlink into the AV. She hacks the transport AI with one of her programs and the drive comes to life. Together, she and I make off to dump the transport into Mort Crater. Before we get there, Ahava sends a comm to some guy in a dark suit, a nanomage by the looks of it. Some slick hotshot with a funny look to him, like he aint everything he appears to be.

The cyborgs were gettin feistier than usual. They rolled out and begin to load clips into their weapons. Eight of them begin to home in, some of them come with mechdogs. Seven seconds later, my baby and I meep into the grid before we get into combat range.

Later we meet at the dropoff point, and exchange the goods. No sooner we hand it over, and the nanomage disposes of it right away. We are thanked for our cooperation and my wife and him make small talk. I dunno what she sees meetin' all kindsa strange folk as a Fixer, but I dont complain. Every bit pays the bills, ya know? We compliment each other that way. She makes the deals, and I bust the heads.

Just as promised, she and I meet up with the rest of the on-call Bounty Hunters. Got myself cleaned up, stitched up, and liquored up. All in all, I gotta admit I had a good night.



Fin.