Hunter’s Moon (Bounty Hunter Bites)

Lina

LINA

T he bustling Adtera bazaar thrummed with life, a riot of colors, scents, and sounds assaulting my senses. I weaved through the crush of bodies, dodging merchants hawking their wares and customers bartering with guttural tones. Giant orange fronds from a Myrcian plant trader swayed overhead, brushing my cheek with their subtle floral fragrance.

“Freshest loratun roots in the galaxy!” A grizzled Bornathi waved a twisted purple vegetable under my nose. “Plump and juicy, perfect for your evening stew!”

I waved him off politely. “No, thank you. I’m just here for Arin’s teas.”

The familiar mustiness of dried herbs and bark greeted me as I approached Arin Tal’s storefront. The round-bellied Lokvian shuffled about behind the wooden counter, his tentacles deftly scooping various blends into bags.

“Ah, ! Here for the doctor’s usual, I take it?” His bulbous eyes crinkled in a friendly smile.

I grinned back. “You know me too well.”

A commotion from a nearby stall drew my attention. A sharp-toothed Ghilam trader bickered animatedly with a customer, his tail lashing back and forth. Snippets of their guttural speech drifted over.

“...finest quality, I swear on my ancestors’ graves!”

“Please, even a newborn could see you’re trying to pawn off scraps!”

Chuckling under my breath, I turned back to find Arin slumped behind the counter, face frozen in a rictus of pain. My smile faded.

“Arin? Arin!” I vaulted over the counter, crouching beside him. His breaths came in ragged huffs, eyes unfocused. A dark stain blossomed across his tunic.

No, no, not like this...

“Hang on, Arin, I’ll get help!” But his gnarled hand clamped around my wrist with surprising strength.

“Run...” he wheezed, flecks of blue-green blood staining his lips. “...assassin...trap...”

His grip went slack, head lolling back. Panic clawed at my throat as I fumbled for a pulse...nothing. I squeezed my eyes shut against the sting of tears.

Arin Tal, the jovial tea seller, dead on the floor of his own shop.

The clatter of overturned shelves jerked my head up. A towering, quad-armed figure garbed in black robes emerged from the back room, pouches bulging with plundered goods. Fear sluiced down my spine like ice water.

I scurried behind a tower of containers, chest heaving as I fought to control my ragged breathing. The Nerath assassin stalked towards the exit, oblivious to my presence...until a stray can clattered from my trembling hands.

Those soulless amber eyes snapped right to me.

I bolted for the door, sucking in desperate gulps of the crowded street’s thick, spice-laden air. Bodies jostled me from all sides as I plunged headlong into the churning mass of people. A powerful hand clamped around my arm, wrenching me backwards--

--and I found myself face-to-face with the assassin. Terror leached the strength from my limbs. Those merciless eyes bored into me, promising a cruel demise.

Twisting free of his grasp, I sprinted wildly through the teeming bazaar, merchants and shoppers parting before me with shouts of surprise. I chanced a look over my shoulder--the assassin shoved people aside with his massive arms, an unstoppable force slicing through the chaos in pursuit.

My foot snagged on something--the ground rushed up with brutal force. I sprawled across the hard-packed dirt, the wind knocked from my lungs. Gasping, I craned my neck just as the assassin bore down on me, arm raising for a final, fatal blow--

A massive, swinging basket of exotic fruits crashed into the assassin’s torso, knocking him sideways. Ripe, purple-skinned melons tumbled across the dusty ground, their juicy flesh splitting open. The irate merchant’s curses were lost in the cacophony of the bazaar as chaos erupted around us.

Dazed, I pushed myself up on shaky limbs only to freeze at the shock of familiarity.

As the assassin stumbled, his sleeve rode up, revealing a stark tattoo on his inner forearm. Three muscular arms clasped together in a tight triangle, their fingers interlocked. A sinuous serpent wound through the gaps, its scales gleaming with an unnatural vibrancy. My blood ran cold. The Obsidian Dawn.

What could they want with a simple tea shop?

Danger sense flaring, I snapped back to awareness and flung myself into the maelstrom of the bazaar, trying to get away. A discordant ringing split the cacophony around me. The commpad’s screen flickered to life, revealing Dr. Heylarth’s craggy, scaled face. His amber eyes narrowed with concern, the light glinting off his metallic horns. Even through the small screen, his imposing dragon-like presence made me feel safer.

“! Where are you? I’ve been trying to reach you for--” The elderly Mondian’s voice cut off as he took in my disheveled appearance. “What happened?”

“Dr. Heylarth! I need help, Arin’s dead and there are assassins after m--”

An iron grip seized my wrist, wrenching the commpad away and slamming it to the ground with a sickening crunch. I whirled to face another black-robed Nerath, fanged maw twisted into a sadistic grin.

That was enough to spur me harder. I broke into a dead sprint towards the nearby spaceport gates, unwilling bystanders scattering before me. The looming shadows of three starships rose beyond the gates--ships taking off soon by the looks of the activity around them.

On pure instinct, I veered towards the largest, most nondescript vessel and sprinted up the entry ramp. A startled mechanic tried to wave me off, but I shoved him aside and bolted deeper into the dim, plasteel corridors.

My heart jackhammered in my chest, every strangled breath burning through me as I tore around one last corner into what looked like...a cargo bay? Unmarked gray containers lined the walls, harsh chemical scents stinging my nostrils. But it would have to do.

I scurried behind the nearest cargo containers just as the unmistakable thrum of repulsors firing up shuddered through the deck plating. Burying my face in my knees, I hugged myself tight as the ship lurched spaceward, bound for...anywhere that wasn’t here.

Tharion

I stepped into the smoky den, my nostrils flaring at the stench of cheap liquor and stale sweat. The dim lights cast long shadows across the room, but my vision pierced through the gloom with ease. Bevarik, the Fanaith broker, sat at a table in the corner, surrounded by a small entourage of muscled thugs. Their presence didn’t intimidate me, but it spoke volumes about Bevarik’s paranoia.

As I approached, Bevarik’s features twisted into what I assumed was a smile. His wide, lipless mouth stretched, revealing rows of needle-like teeth.

“Ah, Tharion! So good to see you, my friend. Please, sit down. Can I offer you a drink?”

I remained standing, my arms crossed over my chest. “I’m not here for pleasantries, Bevarik. What’s the job?”

Bevarik’s smile faltered, but he quickly recovered. “Always straight to business, aren’t you? That’s what I admire about you Vinduthi. So focused, so... driven.”

My patience wore thin. I leaned forward, planting my hands on the table. “The job, Bevarik. Now.”

The Fanaith’s bodyguards hands moved to their weapons. I paid them no mind. If they wanted a fight, they’d get one they’d regret.

“Very well, very well.” Bevarik reached into his pocket and pulled out a small holoprojector. With a flick of his webbed fingers, an image flickered to life above the table.

My blood flared. The hologram showed a human female, her auburn hair framing a face that was both delicate and determined. Her green eyes stared right through me, even in this static image.

“Her name is Chivek,” Bevarik said, all business. “Last seen at the Adtera city spaceport, but her trail’s gone cold. The client wants her found and brought in. Alive and unharmed.”

I studied the image, committing every detail to memory. “Who’s the client?”

Bevarik shook his head. “You know that’s not how this works, Tharion. Client confidentiality is paramount in our line of work.”

I grunted in acknowledgment. It wasn’t ideal, but it wasn’t unusual either. “What’s the bounty?”

Bevarik named a figure that made even my eyebrows rise. It was a substantial sum, enough to set me up comfortably for a long time.

“That’s... generous,” I said, carefully neutral.

Bevarik’s amphibious features twisted into something resembling a smirk. “The client is very motivated to see this job completed quickly and discreetly.”

I nodded, my mind already racing through the implications. A bounty that high meant trouble, and lots of it. But it also meant I couldn’t afford to pass it up.

“I’ll take it,” I said, straightening up. “Send the details to my ship.”

Bevarik nodded, deactivating the holoprojector. “A pleasure doing business with you, as always, Tharion. Good hunting.”

I turned and left without another word, eager to be out of that foul-smelling den. As I made my way through the winding corridors of the space station, conversations drifted to my sensitive ears.

“...heard the Syndicate’s making a move on the outer sectors...”

“...new hyperdrive tech, supposed to cut travel time in half...”

“...stay away from Sector 7, Fanaith territory now...”

I filed away the information, always on the lookout for anything that might be useful later. The station was a hive of activity, beings from a hundred different worlds bustling about their business. But my mind was focused on one face: ’s.

As I approached the docking bay where my ship was berthed, a familiar and unwelcome voice called out.

“Well, well. If it isn’t the great Tharion. Slumming it with the rest of us bounty hunters now, are we?”

I turned to see Marvek, a Lyrikan bounty hunter I’d had the misfortune of crossing paths with before. His silver-white hair was tied back, and his cold grey eyes held a mocking glint.

“Marvek,” I snarled. “I don’t have time for your games.”

He stepped closer, his lean frame coiled with barely contained energy. “Word is, there’s a new bounty out. Big money. You wouldn’t happen to know anything about that, would you?”

My patience snapped. In an instant, I closed the distance between us.

“Listen carefully, Marvek, because I’m only going to say this once,” I said. “Stay out of my way. This job is mine. If I so much as catch a whiff of you interfering, they’ll be scraping what’s left of you off the hull of my ship. Understood?”

Marvek’s eyes widened slightly, but to his credit, he didn’t back down. “Big words, Vinduthi. Let’s see if you can back them up.”

I held his gaze for a moment longer, then stepped back. Without another word, I turned and continued toward my ship. As I walked away, I heard Marvek mutter something under his breath, but I didn’t care enough to listen.

My ship, the Mkrani Soko, sat waiting for me in the docking bay. As I approached, some of the tension left my body. This ship was more than just a vessel; it was home.

As I entered the airlock, my mind drifted back to the hologram of the target. . There was something about her, something that tugged at me in a way I couldn’t explain.

Nonsense.

She was just another bounty, nothing more.

But as I settled into the pilot’s seat and began the pre-flight checks, I couldn’t shake the feeling that this job was going to be anything but ordinary.