Hard Luck Hermit

“Credit where credit is due, luring us right into your lair of crony cops was a good plan,” Kamak said. “But not good enough.”

Vansis just stared coldly back at Kamak. They had him tied up in the cargo bay, with his back to the doors, just to remind him how close he was to the cold void of space. It didn’t seem to bother him much.

“Your abomination can’t rescue you every time,” Vansis said. “The next hunter will find their mark.”

“For starters, the only abomination on this ship is Tooley,” Kamak said. Tooley didn’t even react to the jab, a clear sign that Vansis’ presence on the ship had her in an especially bad mood. “And secondly, Doprel isn’t going anywhere, so that Arbestry or whatever you work for is just going to be sending a stream of idiots to their untimely deaths. You can keep yourself from being the first entry on that list by telling me what you know.”

“I have told you what I know,” Vansis said. “An ally of the Ardeth contacted him with information on the whereabouts of your degenerate pilot. I was assigned to meet an intermediary, I received the information, and began a hunt on my own.”

“You took a job with no payment, no information, and no clue what the guy offering the job really wanted?”

“It is not a ‘job’, I’m not some gunslinging whore selling my life to hunt pathetic criminals,” Vansis spat. “I am on a mission to purify the Sturit race and lead it to a glorious future-”

“Can I fucking kill him now?” Tooley roared.

“Give me a minute,” Kamak said. He went to one of the storage lockers in the hangar and popped it open, to dig around. He found what he was looking for and tossed it to Tooley, who deftly caught the sharp, spiraling mechanism. “You can do the honors.”

“Okay, hold on, I’m not on board for torture,” Corey said.

“It’s not fucking torture, it’s a tissue sampler,” Kamak said. “Like Theddis used on that corpse. If Vansis’ mouth won’t tell us anything, maybe his body will.”

Corey and Kamak both looked sideways as Vansis screamed loudly. Tooley had jabbed the tissue sampler into his groin. Corey turned his gaze back to Kamak.

“Okay, it can be used torturously,” Kamak said. “But so can a fork. Doesn’t make a fork a torture implement.”

Much to the relief of Vansis, and every hypothetical spectator, Tooley stopped herself with the one painful jab. She handed over the sampler to Farsus, who took it for storage, and then looked at Kamak.

“Can I kill him now?”

“Do whatever you want with him,” Kamak said. “There’s an empty transport cell in the corner if you decide not to give into the bloodlust. Otherwise, you know where the guns are. You can even use Vansis’ gun, that’d be ironic.”

Corey had snatched the Sturit-made gun, both to keep it away from Vansis and to have one more gun. Kamak focused back on Vansis himself.

“Do whatever you want, but keep in mind you’re cleaning up whatever messes you make.”

With no desire to see whatever was about to happen, Kamak headed back for the cockpit. He had some work to do planning their next destination. Doprel let his eyes linger on Tooley for a moment in a silent plea, but then he left as well. Tooley eyed Vansis for a moment, then looked at Corey.

“You got a look in your eyes like you aren’t here to help,” Tooley said. “You got something to say?”

“No. Just...want you to be sure you really want to do this.”

“Oh, the guy who didn’t even blink gunning down cannibals wants to play nice with the genocide fanboy,” Tooley said. “Get off your fucking high horse and give me your knife.”

“Okay, fine, I’m not going to lecture you,” Corey said. “But I’m not giving you a knife. Use a gun, make it quick. Drawing it out is just fucked up.”

“Please do, I’m sick of watching you animals argue,” Vansis said.

“Not really helping your case here, pal,” Corey said, as he rolled his eyes.

“I die an honorable death,” Vansis said. “Better that than a single moment living your pathetic, corrupt lives! You’re animals! Worse than animals! You had a chance to be among the greatest empire to ever exist, and you threw it away for degeneracy!”

The rant showed no signs of stopping. Tooley looked at Corey and held out her hand.

“I meant what I said,” he insisted.

“Alright, come on, I’ll get a fucking gun,” Tooley grunted. She headed out of the cargo bay, towards the gun rack, and groaned in frustration again when she saw Doprel’s massive body blocking it off. He was standing stock still, staring at his datapad.

“Doprel, I know what I’m doing, I-”

She stopped herself mid-sentence. Doprel’s emotions were displayed in odd flexes of mandibles and the dilation of spiracles along his neck, making him hard to read, but Tooley knew him well enough to know those spiracles were saying “sad”.

“Doprel, what happened?”

“I got a refund,” Doprel said, holding up his datapad. Even his alien tone made it clear it was a bleak attempt to make a joke. “All the money I donated to Keevah and his family.”

That seemed innocuous at first, but the way Tooley’s teeth started grinding told Corey it was anything but.

“What does that mean?”

“Automated banking systems. Donations get refunded,” Tooley said flatly. “If the recipient dies.”

Corey’s thoughts went to the refugee Keevah, his wife, and their infant child.

“All of them?”

“All of them,” Doprel said. “Vansis isn’t the only hunter, apparently.”

The datapad went cold and black as Doprel put it away. This time, Doprel didn’t look at Tooley as he walked off. She took tacit approval where she got it, and looked to Corey. He was already holding his knife towards her.