Gnashing teeth… claws clicking on the ground… three katanas whirled around the creature as it approached him… the blades flashed… a flare of pain and a gush of blood… he saw his hand laying on the floor and tasted blood on his lips. Using his remaining hand he raised the modified welder, supporting it on his blood-gushing stub-
“AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAH!” SLAM. Leonn woke with a fright and a headache, his scar and left arm both throbbing with pain. He rubbed his forehead where it had hit the door on his sensory deprivation tank. He pushed open the door and detached the breathing apparatus, surprisingly not refreshed from the rest immersed the regenerative fluid. He screamed at himself internally for drifting asleep. That shouldn’t be happening, he thought, I had the sleepless chip installed for a reason. Air gushed from around him, drying the fluid. Unseen bots siphoned it back into his tank. He attached his standard prosthetic to his left hand, then detached it and attached the utility hand. Running through a quick test of its nerve-movement reaction and the condition of the utilities, he dressed at the same time.
You’ve got to stop resorting to those blades, Leonn, he thought, mantra-like. Every time you do you get the nightmares of that day. That day being the day he earned his freedom, at the cost of his left hand. Having killed a marauding Nexus with a modified welder, they awarded him his freedom and spoils from the creature’s possessions. The three molecular-edged blades never left his side; he strapped one on now, as the other two stayed with his suit. Almost ten years ago now, and he still had nightmares about it.
He finished dressing and picked up his Sights, placing them over his eyes. In addition to normal vision and the optical enhancements, he now could see the flow of information, communicate instantly with anyone anywhere as he went through his daily routine. It also allowed him to access the bounty network, scope out his next mission.
The pain in his arm and face subsided, reminding him of the pain in his right arm where the Lacunian’s tail had struck. Several red wounds where the spikes had punctured stung, and would leave a scar, but there was nothing else he could do now. Nothing save his normal morning cocktail of stims and painkillers, which he downed along with a nutrient mush.
He started to head down to the training room 37A, which was always reserved for him at this time. His hunt list was sporadically showing cases, in hopes of snagging him for one of them. As he reached the training room and started his routine of high-g training and target practice, the list flashed a name he new quite well – his own! Stopping the list from moving on, he saw the bounty, the charges, everything. It all washed over him in a daze, just as a boulder flew from the south wall and slammed him in the chest.
Leaving the training course, bruised and discouraged, he knew what had to be done. He walked over to a command terminal and withdrew all his funds, the billions of credits accumulated over ten years of bounty hunting. He then walked over to the commercial district, flagged down his supply man, a Scaa named Tork.
Shoving his way past customers, he pulled out a million credit chit and placed it on the table. “Take me to the supply chamber,” he commanded, curing the negative bob of the Scaa’s head with several more chits. He opened his command file of the blueprints, containing his latest design for a battlesuit. If he hadn’t been wanted, he would have waited, as there were always newer innovations for the suit he could use, but with these desperate times, he needed his max firepower.
“I want this,” he said, sending Tork the specifications, with an extra supply list attached.
“I am rather busy Leonn, but I will get around to it. One point five billion and you will have it in a standard month.”
“Not acceptable. How about three billion for today.”
The snake-like creature shook with glee, then contained it and returned to his business state. “Make it three point five and you have a deal.”
Leonn sighed and placed the chits in front of him. Tork scurried off, rallying construction bots behind him.
Jeff sat at his computer, surrounded by dozens of crushed cans of soda. The emblem of the International Department of Communication and Space, IDOCAS, was emblazoned on the special computer. He laughed slightly, remembering that these computers wouldn’t be available to the general public for a good thirty years. And the equipment IDOCAS used, well, that wouldn’t be available for as long as they could withhold it. Equipment they had found thirteen years ago, when the government found a crashed ship with extraterrestrial technology. Much of it was ruined in the crash, but what was salvaged allowed IDOCAS to construct a receiver for interdimensional hyperwaves. It took them nearly three years to decipher the common languages, but now IDOCAS had access to the news of the universe.
What was interesting, or perhaps disturbing, was that there was a human who was making quite a name for himself in the universe. Jeff’s entire branch of IDOCAS was designated to follow every move of this mysterious bounty hunter, one Leonn Craft. Unfortunately, it was always so hard to find the right information, as it was hard to search through trillions upon trillions of news reports and other info.
Jeff sighed and delved into the day’s news. Not really expecting to find anything in his section, he nearly fell out of his chair when the headline was “Bounty Hunter Becomes Hunted.” Glancing at it, Leonn’s name appeared many times, it was obvious the article was about him.
“Helens, you might want to see this!” shouted over to the office across from his. “Our project is on the move!”
Sonya Helens burst through the door, followed closely by her sister Katrina. Katrina was the first to say something. “Ooh! Leonn’s on the move? Let me see!” Sonya, the yin to Katrina’s yang kept her cool and slowly followed her sister’s wake through a sea of crushed cans.
“Don’t you think its bad enough you follow me to work, and know about top secret government equipment?” Sonya scolded. She turned towards Jeff. “Any notion of what he’s going to do next?”
“Ooh… looks bad,” Katrina mused, eyes glinting with sympathy and her waves of black hair flowing behind her. Sonya raised her finger scoldingly to deliver another lecture on “top secret” this and “official government” that.
She was cut off, however, by an “Ahem” from the doorway. The head of IDOCAS, Professor Alexander Bishop, was standing at the doorway. Sonya was the only one who noticed this, apparently, as Katrina, with a sparkle in her overcast blue eyes, and Jeff were engrossed with the article on “everyone’s favorite bounty hunter.”
She glanced at the screen herself, seeing a picture of Leonn. She had seen him before, but never in such detail, apparently it had never been worth taking a good enough shot of him before this latest fiasco. She noticed something, however, eyes darting between Leonn’s picture and Alexander in the doorway. They shared a striking resemblance. Both sported the same green eyes that almost seemed to stare through you. Both had long, thin faces with high cheekbones, despite the professor’s being slightly wrinkled. Both had the same unnaturally red hair, with each hair seeming to fill its exact purpose completely. The professor’s hair had a sloppy, somewhat spiky look about it, but perfectly so, as if he were the defining stereotype for sloppy spiky mad scientist hair. Leonn’s hair was much longer, but still spiked, forming large, perfect spikes eight inches long. Two shorter locks of hair fell across his forehead like stray spines, but perfect nonetheless.
She was drawn out of this trance by another “Ahem” from the professor in the doorway, this one loud enough to attract the attention of Katrina and Jeff.
“Katrina, dear, what have I told you about coming here?” he asked, stern but cordial.
“Not to?” she replied, sulkily, moving to leave.
“Oh stay, what the hell. You’re practically part of the organization.” He laughed slightly, and then pushed gracefully through the pile of cans to see the screen. “It looks as though our little vigilante has gone outlaw. It will be interesting to see how he handles this one.”
“I knew you could do it, Tork. This is exactly what I wanted,” Leonn said, admiring the armor through the viewscreen while holding his automatic sidearm up against the Scaa’s head. “And you’re not going to try to run away and betray me again, are you?”
Tork bobbed his large, serpentine head in the sign for no, worriedly. Shying away from the small barrel of the automatic weapon, which followed the writhing head.
“That’s what I thought,” Leonn said, holstering his gun. At that moment, the door flew open, revealing a reptilian Sauric, with a Fléchette gun in his large, clawed hands. Leonn dodged aside, pulling up twin automatic sidearms while rolling, evading the first barrage of microblades and sinking twenty rounds into the head and torso of the Sauric. The giant lizard fell backwards in a pool of his own blood.
More bounty hunters poured in over the corpse, guns at the ready. Leonn picked off several with a strafing burst, finishing the clips. Leonn quickly reloaded with explosive rounds and began popping up from behind piles of parts. The guns now set to slower rates of fire, he blasted back the advancing bounty hunters, several of which were wearing blast shields. The pistols quickly expended their ammunition, leaving Leonn with only his katana and a few remaining rounds. He reached for it, and then changed his mind as he saw a better plan. Letting loose one of his last few bullets into the gravity controller of the room, he lobbed several flashsmoke grenades from the chain of them strapped to his left wrist. The grenades went off as the gravity in the room cut out, sending piles of parts flying through the air. Taking a dive, he grabbed the half-complete assault rifle that was being propelled towards him from the blast, quickly scanning it over for missing parts. Recognizing what it needed, he grabbed the parts out of the clouds of weapon bits that were floating through the air. Within a few seconds he had completed the weapon and grabbed a couple of clips of ammunition for it, so he let lose fire.
After a few minutes of dodges, dives, flashsmoke grenades, and several clips of assault rifle fire, the room was empty of bounty hunters, including Leonn who dived out the door and rolled to a standing position in the gravity of the hallway. Dusting himself off, he headed towards the docking bay.
The armor almost seemed to flow over him, its cybernetic reflexes perfectly attuned to his enhanced natural ones. It was much heavier than his previous suit, but years of training under high G’s had led to a high tolerance to weight. Armor four inches thick surrounded his entire body, protecting him with multiple layers. Closest to his body was the cohesive “liquid” metalcloth, filled with neural sensors to project to his armor and shock formers to shift the bulk of the defense to where it was needed. Over that was a shock absorbing gel layer. Next came a full inch of implosion-packed fixedform alloy laced with mechanical muscles. This was coated with shapeform weave, set to bend its strength to the point of impact. Laced through the weave was radiation protection, superconductive charge outlets, and “bubble-gun” anti-projectile force-field generators. A thin frictionless coat finished, as the icing on the cake.
A plated X-belt crossed his shoulders and wrapped his waist, holding a plethora of grenades and ammo clips. A shield generator sat at the intersection of the belts. Huge shoulders held rocket launchers and stored the heavy weapons – two boltcannons for the right hand, a double implosion lance for the left, and the Hydra system, a set of four serpentine plasma sniper rifles. The hands alone held as many weapons as some of his previous armors. Torpedo launchers were contained in both hands, along with force-staff generators. Plasma swords were contained in the wrists, with spectral-chain launchers for use as projectile weapons. Plasma claw generators ran between the fingers, and large monomolecular edged claws set spring-loaded on his arms. Gun holsters were concealed along the upper arms and at the legs, giant plasma blades hung at his waist. Small Vulcan guns were inlaid into the helmet. Not to mention the pack of ammunition, ammunition generator, and small weapons for going planetfall. With everything in place, he shot off, into the endless night of space.
Warning klaxons went off in his chip almost
immediately. His HUD showed approaching enemies from every side. Burning
damnation! How high is my bounty, anyways? he thought. His chip supplied
the answer, a figure which blew Leonn’s mind. This is the highest bounty
I’ve ever seen. I have half a mind to turn myself in. No wonder there’s all
these Hunters. There can only be one solution.
He set his communicator to wide-spectrum projection. He sent the message to the many bounty hunters approaching from all sides. “Come and catch me… if you can!”
With fluid movements, his weapons dropped down to his arms. His thrusters fired full force away from the station to escape the “dead” space as the dual implosion lance fastened itself over his left arm and the boltcannons locked onto either side of his right. He put a bit of spin into his course, allowing him to strafe homing explosive bolts from the six barrels of the cannons. Seeing a cluster of hunters, he let loose a gravity lance, tracing through the group, mashing them together in a sphere of super-dense mass. Breaking the barrier, he activated his rift drive, bending space around him and launching him into another dimension.
He stopped for a few seconds then, solar wings recharging his power cells and time restoring his rift drive. The rift recharge was not a necessity after only one rift, but it was better safe than sorry when he had the chance. He activated the Hydra sniper system, dropping down the four sniper rifles. Additional sights for them appeared in his HUD. As expected, the remaining other hunters had followed, appearing with a space-bending ripple and a wave of prismatic light. Leonn fired off sniper shots at the heads or other nerve centers of the appearing bounty hunters, killing many of them before they could fully materialize. He then activated his rift drive again, also randomly, and repeated the process of rest, sniping, rift.
After a couple of cycles, many bounty hunters started catching on and rifted in with guns blazing. Leonn knew he was in trouble then, as his shield capacity was falling fast. He mentally reached through his chip and disabled the safety precautions on the rift drive. It was a dangerous risk, but it was necessary for survival. Each rift-jump he made would earn him minutes, time he could use to plant traps, strategize, do something to save himself. They could still follow him, due to the rift “footprints,” but at this point he needed any time he could get.
He took a deep breath, drawing oxygen from the nanobot recyclery tank, and activated the rift drive, holding the nerve switch that ran it at full random. Galaxies rushed by him and nebulas flickered into view, only to be replaced by other wonders of space; Planets rushed past, ships even larger floated far away. Never stopping, the worlds became a kaleidoscope of colors, permeating into Leonn’s other senses until it saturated his being. Then a warning, a flash, and it all stopped.
“Chip! Rift drive status!” Leonn shouted, his senses still askew from their overload. He paused, collecting his wits with a calming breath.
“Rift drive in top condition Leonn. Power cells are running low, however,” the chip replied through the suit.
“Then why won’t the suit rift?” Leonn asked, looking at his current status. Systems showed green, except for power cells showing yellow or red.
“It seems we hit a Gravitic anomaly, causing the rift drive to malfunction. We are in a dead dimension.”
“Vanished, eh?” Jeff mused, reading the
latest headlines. Delving further, he was already pushing the button paging
Sonya’s office. Folding his laptop, he stepped on the moto-walk going to the
IDOCAS facility. The city of Atlantis loomed around him, its skyscrapers and
motorized walkways surrounding everything. The city got its name in the
building process, when the whole neutral country practically rose from the
middle of the ocean. Made completely of neutral territory, it was a cornerstone
in the foundations of the INA, the International Neutral Alliance. Founded
after the discovery of extraterrestrial life, INA replaced all previous international
alliances, encompassing all the duties of NATO, the UN, and many others into
one huge facility. Japanese micro-engineers teamed up with American and
European construction companies, setting up a shaft to the bottom of the
Pacific a kilometer wide. Buttressing out from this center shaft, the
ever-growing city-state of Atlantis was the pinnacle of modern life. IDOCAS,
the science department of Atlantis, took up a large chunk of the city as the
leading science facilities in the world. Atlantis University trained the best
and brightest minds for the new age they were entering. And the city itself was
one of the most economically and culturally diverse potpourris in the world,
blending Neo-Americanism styles with Japanese micro-managed sectors, European
districts, Middle Eastern Islamic sections, and Chinese Buddi-Confucian areas.
Religion blurred as much as architectural designs, giving rise to blends,
innovations, and entirely new religions altogether. Skyscrapers towered from
the anchor points, and thrown-together walkways spider-webbed between them,
with peddler’s booths running rampant. At the very center of the city a
kilometer-diameter deep-sea anchor plunged into the ocean, and continued on up,
a space elevator into the space observation satellite tethered just outside the
atmosphere. Knowledge flowed like blood through the veins of the advanced
intra-network. National political leaders became complete figureheads, as only
having a share in the Atlantean politics could a politician truly influence anything.
The motorized walkway approached the IDOCAS
facility, and Jeff stepped off. Alex Bishop was waiting just inside the
doorway. Jeff nodded, and Alex returned the greeting, and then followed him to
his messy office. The pile of crunched cans was growing, and the other side of
the desk was cluttered with discs and data chips, organized by indecipherable
labels. Sonya was already waiting in the office, accompanied, unsurprisingly by
Katrina. He hit the on button on his computer, which loaded immediately and
synchronized with the page he skimmed on his laptop. The wonders of modern
science, he thought with a smile.
The
full report appeared on the page, giving the details of this fugitive’s escape,
and the last rift footprint found, leading into what appeared to be a dead
dimension. So far, none had dared follow this print, as its signature was so
far off from normal. Jeff stroked his shadow of a beard, highlighting the
dimension identification code for search. Only two other articles popped up.
One was a general science report about a group of dead dimensions. The other
article spoke of a mission gone wrong. Jeff’s jaw dropped as he correlated the
dates, confirmed with a mention of a unique specimen. Leonn had returned to
earth’s dimension.
Leonn
swore to himself for several minutes, switching between universal and a few
other languages he had picked up in the past to fully convey his disastrous
predicament. After calming down a little, he took in his current situation.
Running his scanners through the spectrum, he picked up a lot of activity from
a blue planet. He figured this was his best bet, so set a course to put himself
into orbit of it. He set himself into a meditative state, collecting his
thoughts and calming himself as he approached the planet.
IDOCAS
was a flurry of activity with their new discovery. Communication with an IDOCAS
observatory in Brazil confirmed a mysterious flash in space near the asteroid
belt, followed by what appeared to be a small comet of some sort set on a
collision course with the earth. Further analysis of this comet determined that
it had an odd, almost anthropomorphic shape and was composed of an unknown
alloy. Tabloids flooded with news of a “Space Man” coming to earth to take it
over, of government conspiracies to cover this up. These rumors were of course
denied by the INA, lead by the magnanimous Richard Sirrus Craft.
Elsewhere
in Atlantis, Richard Sirrus Craft II, son of the leader of the INA, swept back
his short black hair and stepped up to a lectern, saluting the growing crowd.
“We are gathered here today,” he began, “to address a growing problem in this
pristine world of ours. This threat I speak of is the secret alien invasion
going on under our very noses. Thirteen years ago aliens visited this world,
and we managed to defeat them then. We stole their technology to build this
magnificent city we stand in. But their threat did not end their defeat.
Secretly since then, aliens have been infiltrating our world. And now there is
talk of another one, who is perhaps their warlord, coming down in plain sight
to destroy us. I say we cannot let this happen! We must rally together and
force the government to defeat this threat. I say to you, we must have a Pure
Earth!” The crowd broke into a chant of “Pure Earth! Pure Earth! Pure Earth!”
raising their fists with each iteration. Richard stepped down from the podium,
dropping back into the ally behind it. His companions waited back there, along
with Xavier DeLane, chief of the Atlantean Police Department.
Xavier
approached Richard, nodding. “I hope you didn’t get them too riled up. I’d hate
to have to call in the force to quash their rebellion, which of course would
mean I’d have to arrest you.” He laughed, escorting Richard and his associates
through the crowd to their limo.
Leonn
set into orbit of the planet, surprised by the large amount of seemingly
pointless debris cluttering the space around it. He snapped to information and
energy flow vision, seeing the interlocking networks between the satellite
debris. He sent out a neuro-tendril to one of the closer satellites, tapping
into the informational network. Strange words flowed over him, some of them
triggering memories from before he was taken to space. His chip took it all in,
piecing together a language translator. Soon the rush of words began to make
some sense. Engrossed in thought and communication, he didn’t notice his slight
shift in position, and crashed into another satellite, which sent him
plummeting into the atmosphere.
Nyx’tar’tal floated in his chamber, contemplating
the plan ahead. Soon all of his efforts would come to fruition, and he would be
rewarded with the gift of the Void. And now that the Lacunians’ little tool,
that creature Craft, was out of the way, no one could stop him.
The entirety of Atlantis city looked to the
sky that night as a very strange meteor plummeted through the sky. As it
approached North America, it started to slow, almost appeared to be turning
around, until suddenly it gave out and smashed into the earth.
Richard Craft sat alone in his room in his
upwards-sprawling skyscraper mansion. Despite his claims to the crowd, he had
heard the name of the person falling from the sky. Oh baby brother… how
could you do this to me now? he mused, picking up a stack shuriken from the
desk. After all these years of worrying about them coming to get me too, it
turns out you’re the only one coming out of the sky… He let a half dozen of
the shuriken fly, imbedding in and around the bull’s eye of the target hanging
from his wall. But I won’t let you get away with this, no. You abandoned us,
becoming one of those vile creatures. Now you return to drag us to the same
fate. NO! I won’t let you! He threw the rest of the shuriken, not caring
that they ricocheted off the one already imbedded in the center.
Xax-Flekk held the monomolecular-edged
knife against his stomach, bowing his head in shame. He had allowed himself to
be controlled by that being of darkness, in the name of destroying a
money-hungry hunter. And despite his dark guidance, he was still defeated. His
honor lay in tatters around him. There was only one path to reclaim it, and
that lay in the knife he held with both hands, grazing the skin. Blood sprung
painlessly from the contact of the impossibly sharp blade, trickled down his
torso. A voice spoke in the back of his head, There is another path. It need
not end like this. You must hunt down and destroy the source of your shame, the
one called Leonn Craft. You must lead the cowardly hunters after him in his
secluded hideaway. You must be the one to cause his demise. Turn your knife to
a better use. He pulled the knife away from the shallow wound on his
stomach, his nanites already sealing it up.
Leonn pushed aside mounds of searing and
melted debris, pulling himself up from the crater created by his impact.
Unsurprisingly all that was damaged was his ego. The few nicks in the suit were
quickly repaired by the suit’s automated repair system, and the powered armor
had protected Leonn from any physical damage. He brushed himself off and surveyed
the landscape. Mounds of worthless debris surrounded him. It seemed he was in
some sort of trash dump. His scanners reported no life forms that could pose a
serious threat, and the only energy sources a few near-depleted batteries and
the thermal signature of the crater behind him. Taking this breather to recoup
his wits, he ran through his mind the events that led to his being stranded on
this alien planet with little or no hope of ever again seeing the rest of the
universe. Was it only yesterday that I set out on that fatal bounty? He
reopened the datafile he received from Khraz’s body, running over the
information again. The whole hunt was a setup… But why? Delving deeper
and tearing through security like it was water, he uncovered the truth. So
the whole time I’ve been nothing but a puppet for the Lacunians, destroying
those ZarachOn who threatened the Lacunians’ “order” with dark schemes, led to
my targets by hunts that appealed to me. I can’t say I resent it… the pay’s
been good, and it feels good to be getting the “bad guys,” but the Lacunians
aren’t much better in the scheme of things. But it looks like the “Drakkuns”
resented it, and took it upon themselves to eliminate me from the equation. The
Drakkuns? That must have been what that dark-shrouded creature was. But why
take me out? Did I really make that much of a difference? It looks like they
are planning something soon, and didn’t want me being used to foil it. Well,
more power to them I suppose. I just wish they didn’t do it in a way that left me
on this secluded rock. His chip pinged him as it picked up an approaching
lifeform. He sprung to attention, guns at full ready.
Ted raised his hands over his head as the
armored monstrosity aimed a plethora of weapons at him. Whatever it was that
fell from the sky must have recognized this sign of non-aggression, since the
weapons then lowered. The creature then fired thrusters and blew past him,
trash swirling and crashing in its wake.
Leonn didn’t look back as he jetted past
the harmless creature. His HUD displayed a map of the planet he had crashed on,
complete with various overlays showing information and energy flow, biological
densities, and other useful tidbits. The highest concentration of activity was
focused around what appeared to be a large island on the equator. He set a
course for it, tearing through the skies on the jets of his suit. He didn’t
know what to expect there, but it seemed a better place to be than any other on
this miserable planet. Communication might be a problem at first, as the
translator his chip was piecing together was still quite patchy.
Leonn brought his suit to land at the edge
of a bustling low-tech metropolis, floating in the sea. A web of plank-bridged
boats extended outwards from it, and it was here he came to rest. Glancing
around, he detected no immediate signs of danger. Taking a deep breath he
unsealed his helmet and prepared for his first encounter with the locals.