It was all beginning to come together, Herne stepped away from the communications console he'd been using to notify the various contracters that he intended top take the Hunt out to find these wayward scum and force them to yield. It was annoying that Fisher had spent more time in Medbay. If such bouts were to continue he'd have to see about causing him some pain of his own. Fisher was the only part of this outfit Herne had doubts about, the other two could be relied upon to be on roughly the same wavelength as Herne, but Fisher was an unknown. He'd have to see what the MedBay team could knock together to keep him in line.
He was a little worried about the overall cohesion, but it would come together, he was certain of that. There were a number of targets to hunt, a few Lane Hackers and such but nothing he felt the Hunt couldn't handle. Soon scum from one end of Sirius to the other would fear the Wild Hunt, they would fear it's tenacity, it's ability to never cease chasing until the kill was confirmed. Herne smiled.
He left the communications room and headed back to Dresla's, Lizzie was there drinking in a darkened booth. Herne ordered a drink and sat down opposite her.
"Got your ship all fixed up?" He looked at her a little more closely, she seemed preoccupied, like something was bothering her.
"Okay I'll bite what's the problem?" It was obvious from the tone of his voice that the question was asked not out of concern but out of necessity.
"Well, I'm having a bit o'bovver, right? Like I told ya, I'm in debt up to my neck, and we ain't pulling in the creds quick enough to shift it, right? I gotta get outta here and do some actual work, I spotted a bounty for one of our own, seems he was screwing around with Liberty law enforcement. Reckoned it was worth a shot, ya know."
"Indeed, once our friend Fisher has finished trying to do himself in we'll be ready to fly, then we hunt. And hunt we will, I've informed a few people of our intentions, some of the long term bounty lists especially. They will learn to fear the Fae."
Herne finished his drink, smiled at Lizzie, and left. It was all coming together nicely.
Saint Del is considered a holy healer of diseases of children, but also as a protector of cattle.
Shane moved the thrust controls to 30%, allowing the on-board computer to sort the docking procedure out. Sheffield station. The base of operations for what Herne now called 'The Wild Hunt'.
Shane actually supported the name, he could see the reasoning behind it. Wild. Yes you could say that about the small group of pilots gathered under Herne's wing. Hunt, well they were Bounty Hunters now weren't they. As his ship settled into hanger 17, Shane looked out at the ships gathered around him. A collection of all different types were gathered here. All seemingly belonging to members of The Wild Hunt. It seemed as if Herne had rented the hanger out for personal use.... who was this fella, and why was he gathering these people like himself. Shane mused on this as he climbed from the cockpit and took the grav lift up to the bar level. Walking in, he greeted the bar keep, ordered his usual and sat down to wait for the next page of this story to unfold.
Lizzie stumbled into Dresla's, a cardi puffer and her credit chit strapped to her left hand. Eyes red and glazed, one swollen shut, fingers raw. Barefoot. She leaned on the wall, and slowly walked toward Herne's table. Halfway there, she collapsed.
![[Image: Del1.png]](http://i14.photobucket.com/albums/a344/Spiderjerusalem1979/Del1.png)
