Flashes of light lit up the little bridge of the X11 as they slipped through the icy rocks in Tau-31...and what had been acceptance of the inevitable quickly changed into something else. "I am so freaking sick of running away...and now I wish we had a torp instead of the cruise disrupter. Damn. If we'd had the torp, we might've stood a chance. We could've helped that Gaian, and-"
He was interrupted by an urgent voice on their private communications channel...it was "that Gaian"...and she did not sound like a happy camper. "He got me! Some of my 'friends' who wouldn't help me fight at least kept him away from my pod, but he's coming after you now. Just keep going to the Freeport...even that psycho wouldn't dare touch you there. I'll contact you later and we'll figure something out. This is NOT the end of this."
The link was cut before either of them could reply, and Katashi glared at the asteroids. "Yeah. That's great. I say we go to Cali instead, try to re-arm and rally some support, and go hunting. What do you think, Ren?"
She was silent for a moment, to the point that the pilot began to wonder if she'd even heard him. But when he turned to look at her, the disturbing smile plastered on her face put that wonder from his mind. "I think not," she answered. "I've got a better idea...keep heading to the Freeport, and hoof it on the other side. We'll need to use every second of our head start, but if we can pull this off-"
* * * * *
The battered old Titan creaked and groaned as the insane Corsair jumped into Tau-29, hot on the heels of his prey. A few of the consoles in the fighter's cockpit had been replaced with generic civilian models, as the pilot no longer had access to proper Corsair technology...assassinating numerous allies tended to do bad things to one's personal diplomacy. The others were so worn from use that their displays could barely be read, and regularly flickered on and off. The original seat had long since worn out, and had been replaced by a seat he'd stolen from a Zoner transport he'd disabled in Omega-49. The viewscreen was so heavily scratched that it was nearly opaque in places, and it had even been patched a few times.
About the only parts of the ship that still worked properly were her sensors, her guns, and her power core. The latter had escaped damage and failure through thorough maintenance and a good deal of luck. The former had to be replaced regularly, and the guns were often switched out and upgraded as well. And they were sometimes blown off...the port wingtip was now missing, for instance.
It hadn't been missing until a half hour before, though. The Corsair mumbled a hideous curse at the Gaian fighter that'd blown it off, vowing to hunt her down once the two Kusari were dead. He'd kept his ship mostly intact for well over a decade, and was loathe to replace it with an inferior non-Corsair model, no matter how many pieces of it he had to give up. Besides which, the battered old fighter was a mirror image of himself. Scarred and beaten, but still vicious, still with fire in its veins, still ever-ready to strike.
He was about to go through a longer list of similarities, but his train of thought was thoroughly derailed by the sight that greeted him once the jump was completed. There were those two damnable Kusari in their stupid, fat X11...and a Virage-class Zoner-built very heavy fighter. A quick scan revealed that it was easily the match of his own ship, particularly in its damaged condition...and that it was registered as an independent mercenary vessel.
"There he is!" It was Katashi's voice over the local comms. "He's the one that hacked the BHG's bounty boards not long ago. Two million credits for his escape pod. We'll assist you...that part's free."
"I'd be lying if I said I didn't like killing a Corsair, but I'll take the money, too." This was a stranger's voice, apparently from the Virage, and with a strange accent that was difficult to place in any specific house. "'Sair: today's not your day, bud. You can eject and save me the trouble, or fight. I don't care."
The renegade Corsair didn't need to think very hard about that. Without so much as a word, he engaged his thruster and opened fire on the X11. It immediately thrusted in response, its pilot obviously anticipating the move, and the Corsair overshot his target without downing its shields.
"Wrong move. Predictable, though." A woman's voice, this time: Ren. "Good. I'd hate to be denied the pleasure of watching you squirm." The X11's aft turrets - the high-end tachyon type - opened fire as it came around in an attempt to bring its six forward Krakens to bear on the wounded Titan. Meanwhile, the Virage's minirazor had missed. Its first gun salvos, however, did not.
While the Titan could easily dodge the X11's fire if taken on its own, it was more difficult to maintain a firing angle when he was also trying to keep moving quickly enough to keep the merc from landing a mini. When the second mini the merc fired took down what was left of his shields, the Corsair was forced to make an unhappy decision. I'd be dead before I could take down the shuttle...I'll have to kill the mercenary first. I have enough disruptors left, and here there are no rocks to make it miss.
* * * * *
It was precisely the wrong decision. The Virage pilot had fought Titans before, and was quite familiar with their preferred tactic of "jousting", using their VHF's superior armor and powerplant to their advantage. That was one of the reasons he flew the fighter that he did; with the agile Virage, he was able to deny the Corsair his favored method of attack, and force him into a turning battle he couldn't win. With the added firepower of the X11's Kraken 1's, the Corsair's first mistake was the last he would make as a fighter pilot. With the sort of poetic justice only random chance could provide, it was a Kraken salvo that finally breached the Titan's heavily-armored power core. The aged craft's escape pod still worked, sealing the Corsair in a protective cocoon as his fighter disintegrated around him. There were smiles in the X11's bridge, but it wasn't over yet.
"Thanks for the assist, Void Spectre. Made it even easier, and I'm never against easy money."
"Anytime," Katashi replied. "Transferring the payment now."
There were a few seconds of silence before the Virage's pilot answered. "Got it. Thanks! Gotta be the easiest bounty I've ever collected. Say, uh...what're you guys gonna do with him?"
"He won't ever make port again, let's put it that way."
"Ah. It's personal, then. I see. Well, I won't keep ya. Lemme know if you ever need another job done...pleasure doing business."
"Likewise. Take care."
Ren had already beamed the contents of the Titan's hold aboard, putting the goodies in the hold and the pod in the airlock. She glanced over at Katashi, who simply nodded. He pulled an antique weapon from a large satchel hanging off his shoulder. It was an ancient projectile weapon, known more commonly as a revolver, and had been a gift from an anachronistic Zoner a couple of years ago. It was well-known for many things, not least of which was its service in the hands of vigilante lawmen millenia ago.
Katashi didn't know if it was a real relic, or just a replica, but he didn't care. All he cared about was that it serve its purpose; and it seemed an appropriate tool for the job. He nodded back to Ren, and while the autopilot engaged the cruise engines toward the Freeport, the pair entered the X11's small airlock just aft of the living area. The Corsair escape pod took up fully half of the airlock, but that too didn't matter. There was enough space for Ren to reach its access panel, and convince it to open a little...then freeze. It wasn't open enough that the Corsair could get out, or even reach his arms to the opening, but it was open enough for him to see them clearly, and for them to see him. There was no mistaking it: this was the same man that'd changed their lives forever.
"Hi," Katashi began. "Now, how does this go? Ren, gimme some pointers." He glared down at the shocked pilot, helpless in his pod, arms crossed over his chest.
"I think you're supposed to lock him in here and haul him to the Freeport, then turn him over to bounty hunters or something. Or take him to Malta to be a slave...that's my personal favorite."
"Pfft. You can do nothing to me," the Corsair taunted. "I have suffered more than anything you could do to me."
"Yeah. Of course, this is the part where I say that no, you haven't, and that you'll have to suffer an inhumanly long lifespan harvesting Cardi from the fields of Malta, or a much shorter life in the captivity of the bounty hunters. But I've got something else to say."
He raised the revolver, centering its primitive sights squarely on his former foe's forehead and raising a querying eyebrow. "Like this? Not like those stupid holodramas where they let the villain live because to kill him would be to become like him. I always thought that was a load of crap. Oh!" he added, as if he'd forgotten something important. Finally, the Corsair realized what was coming, and recognized his own words mixed with the pilot's. At last, his eyes widened with fear he'd not known in far too long as Katashi thumbed back the revolver's hammer. "And you're about to get shot. Have a good day - I know I am."
Without further ado, he pulled the trigger. The old revolver's hammer fell on the firing pin of a bullet. The pistol barked, a deafening sound in the confined space of the airlock. The bullet fell on the Corsair's face. And the Corsair's face fell all over the inside of the escape pod from the force of the heavy pistol round's impact.
The roar subsided, and the dead pirate fell limp inside his pod. Judging from the rather large hole in his head, he wouldn't be bothering anybody ever again. Katashi put the pistol away, let out the breath he hadn't realized he was holding, and wiped a bit of blood off his face with the arm of his suit. "Ren...does it make me a bad person if that felt damn good?"
"No. He wasn't prey...he was a predator. A hunter, but not like us. He didn't choose his targets using anything we'd call rational thought. Even if he hadn't come after us, he needed to die," she answered. "And besides," she added, holding up a large knife she'd been hiding behind her back. "I was going to use this on him if you didn't shoot him. Now let's get out of here, pop him out of the airlock, and blow up his pod just to be sure."
