The Olean Job
The instant between understanding what had happened and knowing that she couldn’t pause for even a minute to absorb it was an event horizon. As Mara stared at the body at her feet, purple blood spreading beneath her, she felt it rip her in two. One part of her entered that black hole, lost to everything beyond the edge. The other part of her glanced off, skidding away into darkness.
Freedom was still possible, for that part of her, even as the other would never return.
So Mara did the only thing she could.
She ran.
Freedom was still possible, for that part of her, even as the other would never return.
So Mara did the only thing she could.
She ran.
“We need a third.”
Mara met Tai’s eyes as she pulled her shirt over her mane. The fabric caught on the bundle of narrow braids she had pulled back from her face, and she tugged until it came loose. When she looked back at him, he was still staring at her, propped on one elbow in their bed.
“A third will just slow us down,” she replied.
The argument was almost mechanical by now, after so many repetitions. Since Andar had retired and Ushue had gotten a security job on a commercial station that straddled the border between Narei and the United Human Nations, Mara and Tai had been taking bounties as a team of two. They were good at their work, with four decades of experience between them, but even two seasoned bounty hunters struggled to bring in the high-value targets their business had once thrived on.
“Plus, that’s an extra person we have to split the take with,” she continued arguing, even as Tai’s expression remained patiently indulgent. She knew what he would say next as well as he did. She sighed and sat down on the bed, the cheap mattress echoing her exhale. Tai reached for her hand, tangling their fingers together.
“You mean the same take that’s vanishing on consulting fees and tech rentals that are supposed to replace our missing team?”
She scowled, and Tai’s face broke into a lopsided grin that stretched the natural markings on his face, fluid stripes trailing from his nose to his ears. All nareians retained the patterns on their skin that would have painted their ancestral fur, though evolution had long since bared their skin, aside from the manes the nobility were so fond of displaying.
He tugged gently at her hand, pulling her back into bed. She curled against his chest, pressing her fingers against the purple-inked tattoos that spread across his torso, symbols on his body of his loyalty to the god of the hunt.
Mara followed none of the gods of Narei’s pantheon. She knew divine intervention had played no role in her life, that what people saw as the blessing of the gods was no more than wealth, power, or dumb luck. But she wouldn’t begrudge Tai his faith.
“We have to grow our team eventually.”
“Why?” she grumbled, her voice muffled by his throat.
He tilted her face up to his, his amber eyes serious. “Because we’re burning through our savings. Because we want to retire someday. Because it’s exhausting doing the work of four people with just the two of us.”
She hated that he was right. “But I like being just the two of us.”
“We will always be just the two of us.” Tai kissed her gently. “But it won’t kill us to have a coworker.”
“Won’t it?” Mara grumbled.
Tai chuckled and sat up, running a hand along her bare leg, up to her hip where the faint charcoal rosettes of her natural markings faded into the black ink of the tattoos stretching down her sides. Then he pushed off the bed and reached for his clothes.
“I’ll let you lead the search,” he said. “So you can’t possibly object to whoever we hire.”
Mara met Tai’s eyes as she pulled her shirt over her mane. The fabric caught on the bundle of narrow braids she had pulled back from her face, and she tugged until it came loose. When she looked back at him, he was still staring at her, propped on one elbow in their bed.
“A third will just slow us down,” she replied.
The argument was almost mechanical by now, after so many repetitions. Since Andar had retired and Ushue had gotten a security job on a commercial station that straddled the border between Narei and the United Human Nations, Mara and Tai had been taking bounties as a team of two. They were good at their work, with four decades of experience between them, but even two seasoned bounty hunters struggled to bring in the high-value targets their business had once thrived on.
“Plus, that’s an extra person we have to split the take with,” she continued arguing, even as Tai’s expression remained patiently indulgent. She knew what he would say next as well as he did. She sighed and sat down on the bed, the cheap mattress echoing her exhale. Tai reached for her hand, tangling their fingers together.
“You mean the same take that’s vanishing on consulting fees and tech rentals that are supposed to replace our missing team?”
She scowled, and Tai’s face broke into a lopsided grin that stretched the natural markings on his face, fluid stripes trailing from his nose to his ears. All nareians retained the patterns on their skin that would have painted their ancestral fur, though evolution had long since bared their skin, aside from the manes the nobility were so fond of displaying.
He tugged gently at her hand, pulling her back into bed. She curled against his chest, pressing her fingers against the purple-inked tattoos that spread across his torso, symbols on his body of his loyalty to the god of the hunt.
Mara followed none of the gods of Narei’s pantheon. She knew divine intervention had played no role in her life, that what people saw as the blessing of the gods was no more than wealth, power, or dumb luck. But she wouldn’t begrudge Tai his faith.
“We have to grow our team eventually.”
“Why?” she grumbled, her voice muffled by his throat.
He tilted her face up to his, his amber eyes serious. “Because we’re burning through our savings. Because we want to retire someday. Because it’s exhausting doing the work of four people with just the two of us.”
She hated that he was right. “But I like being just the two of us.”
“We will always be just the two of us.” Tai kissed her gently. “But it won’t kill us to have a coworker.”
“Won’t it?” Mara grumbled.
Tai chuckled and sat up, running a hand along her bare leg, up to her hip where the faint charcoal rosettes of her natural markings faded into the black ink of the tattoos stretching down her sides. Then he pushed off the bed and reached for his clothes.
“I’ll let you lead the search,” he said. “So you can’t possibly object to whoever we hire.”
Mara convinced Tai to give her some time to pick a candidate. One job. One job to look through the applicants and rank her top three choices. When that job was over, they would hire someone, she promised.
The job was an outsourced investigation for law enforcement on a small nareian colony called Olea. A pair of hackers had stolen identities from a regional nareian government office, one that was too poor to fully staff their security. It was cheaper for them to hire bounty hunters than sustain their own force, and Mara and Tai picked up the job as soon as it flashed across the boards.
The digital thieves had last been seen close to the border between the Nareian Empire and the United Human Nations. Mara dug through their records. Petty crime, mostly. A number of old aliases had previous run-ins with law enforcement in the scattered colonies on the fringe of nareian space. It was enough to establish a pattern, and Mara and Tai paid a hefty fee to a consultant who could take that pattern and find its signature deeper in the digital marrow of the universe.
That expense produced a handful of even older aliases for the pair of hackers—aliases that were clean. When someone rented a room on a station just on the Union side of the border under one of those aliases, Mara and Tai filed their flight plan and set off.
The trip was short once they jumped to FTL speeds, but the list of candidates hovered uneasily in Mara’s consciousness, drawing out the minutes in a slow, disquieting drip. The hole in their savings from the tech consultant’s fee nagged at her, but with each application she read, she felt less and less inclined to hire anyone to round out their team of two.
Mara excused herself from the bridge, holing up in the armory, ensuring their plasma pistols were charging on their racks and her knives were sharpened to her pleasure. She couldn’t stare any longer at that list of candidates, but she found their names floating in the front of her mind as she organized the weaponry.
It had been nearly ten years now since anyone affiliated with her mother had come close to catching her, and six years since the last noble family’s bounty on her head had expired. In those years, she had burned through five identities, each new name putting more distance between Mara and her mother and the life she never wanted to return to. Her mother had never taken out an official bounty on her, but others had. Mara had cut her teeth on staying just outside their reach, more than a few narrow escapes leaving scars that she relished, hardening the armor she tightened around herself more with each day.
Andar and Ushue had never known her true name. The nickname Mara was common enough, with the scores of people who named their children after members of the royal line. They knew she was running from something, that her papers did not match the name they called her, but they didn’t know what she ran from.
Only Tai did. Mara had confessed it all to him after a run-in with the Imperial Guard had cost them a bounty in her first year with the team. By then, Mara had already fallen as stupidly in love with Tai as she had with the pretty courtier who had lured her away from her mother all those years ago. But unlike that pretty courtier, Tai repaid her trust with his confidence. He kept her secret.
“You okay?”
Tai was leaning against the door to the armory, brows knit together. His facial markings were a warm brown against his tawny skin, stretching like two brushstrokes on either side of his nose, soft in contrast to the rich purple ink of the tattoos that twined up his neck.
“I’m fine,” she said. “They’re all good options.”
“But?”
She dropped the plasma pistol she was holding onto the open tray, where it clattered obnoxiously. Anger flushed her neck and flooded her mind with words bitter enough to cut through the fear that licked at the edges of her awareness like a flame seeking oxygen.
“Mara,” Tai said, his voice quiet. “I just want a future for us.”
Mara rounded on him. “Do you think we’ll have any kind of future if my mother finds us? We’d never see each other again, and you’d be lucky not to end up rotting in the palace prisons.”
Tai’s crooked smile appeared again, slow and thoughtful. There was a sadness to the curve of his lips, the embers of his eyes a gentle glow. “I have no doubt you’d rescue me in righteous fury.”
Mara shook her head. “I would try. But you don’t know what it’s like in there. I couldn’t breathe. It took all I had to get away the first time.”
He continued watching her, compassion in his eyes. It was this mystifying kindness that had kept her riveted in their early days of hunting together. Had kept her guessing about how someone who lived such a hard life could still hold on to some softness.
“I think it’s been almost twenty years,” Tai said. “I think you’re safe. And I think you have more power than you think.”
“I have power because I have freedom,” Mara said. “And I’m not willing to give that up.”
Tai nodded, considering her words thoughtfully. “At least let’s talk to a few candidates. See if you still feel the same after that.”
When Mara started working with Tai’s team sixteen years ago, she had done so out of desperation. She had never intended to stay. Now, she was faced with adding someone new to their duo. With giving a stranger access to the secure life she had finally built for herself. Just the thought sent a rush of oxygen to that burning fear, igniting it in her belly.
Mara grimaced. “I don’t like it.”
“I know,” Tai said. “But you have to try.”
“I am trying,” Mara turned back to the weapons, storing the pistol she had dropped and picking up her her knives, sheathing them in soft leather.
His silence told her that he believed her lie exactly as much as she did. She felt his gaze on her neck as she finished her work.
“You know not everyone is out to get you,” he said. “I think you’d be happier if you could believe that.”
The job was an outsourced investigation for law enforcement on a small nareian colony called Olea. A pair of hackers had stolen identities from a regional nareian government office, one that was too poor to fully staff their security. It was cheaper for them to hire bounty hunters than sustain their own force, and Mara and Tai picked up the job as soon as it flashed across the boards.
The digital thieves had last been seen close to the border between the Nareian Empire and the United Human Nations. Mara dug through their records. Petty crime, mostly. A number of old aliases had previous run-ins with law enforcement in the scattered colonies on the fringe of nareian space. It was enough to establish a pattern, and Mara and Tai paid a hefty fee to a consultant who could take that pattern and find its signature deeper in the digital marrow of the universe.
That expense produced a handful of even older aliases for the pair of hackers—aliases that were clean. When someone rented a room on a station just on the Union side of the border under one of those aliases, Mara and Tai filed their flight plan and set off.
The trip was short once they jumped to FTL speeds, but the list of candidates hovered uneasily in Mara’s consciousness, drawing out the minutes in a slow, disquieting drip. The hole in their savings from the tech consultant’s fee nagged at her, but with each application she read, she felt less and less inclined to hire anyone to round out their team of two.
Mara excused herself from the bridge, holing up in the armory, ensuring their plasma pistols were charging on their racks and her knives were sharpened to her pleasure. She couldn’t stare any longer at that list of candidates, but she found their names floating in the front of her mind as she organized the weaponry.
It had been nearly ten years now since anyone affiliated with her mother had come close to catching her, and six years since the last noble family’s bounty on her head had expired. In those years, she had burned through five identities, each new name putting more distance between Mara and her mother and the life she never wanted to return to. Her mother had never taken out an official bounty on her, but others had. Mara had cut her teeth on staying just outside their reach, more than a few narrow escapes leaving scars that she relished, hardening the armor she tightened around herself more with each day.
Andar and Ushue had never known her true name. The nickname Mara was common enough, with the scores of people who named their children after members of the royal line. They knew she was running from something, that her papers did not match the name they called her, but they didn’t know what she ran from.
Only Tai did. Mara had confessed it all to him after a run-in with the Imperial Guard had cost them a bounty in her first year with the team. By then, Mara had already fallen as stupidly in love with Tai as she had with the pretty courtier who had lured her away from her mother all those years ago. But unlike that pretty courtier, Tai repaid her trust with his confidence. He kept her secret.
“You okay?”
Tai was leaning against the door to the armory, brows knit together. His facial markings were a warm brown against his tawny skin, stretching like two brushstrokes on either side of his nose, soft in contrast to the rich purple ink of the tattoos that twined up his neck.
“I’m fine,” she said. “They’re all good options.”
“But?”
She dropped the plasma pistol she was holding onto the open tray, where it clattered obnoxiously. Anger flushed her neck and flooded her mind with words bitter enough to cut through the fear that licked at the edges of her awareness like a flame seeking oxygen.
“Mara,” Tai said, his voice quiet. “I just want a future for us.”
Mara rounded on him. “Do you think we’ll have any kind of future if my mother finds us? We’d never see each other again, and you’d be lucky not to end up rotting in the palace prisons.”
Tai’s crooked smile appeared again, slow and thoughtful. There was a sadness to the curve of his lips, the embers of his eyes a gentle glow. “I have no doubt you’d rescue me in righteous fury.”
Mara shook her head. “I would try. But you don’t know what it’s like in there. I couldn’t breathe. It took all I had to get away the first time.”
He continued watching her, compassion in his eyes. It was this mystifying kindness that had kept her riveted in their early days of hunting together. Had kept her guessing about how someone who lived such a hard life could still hold on to some softness.
“I think it’s been almost twenty years,” Tai said. “I think you’re safe. And I think you have more power than you think.”
“I have power because I have freedom,” Mara said. “And I’m not willing to give that up.”
Tai nodded, considering her words thoughtfully. “At least let’s talk to a few candidates. See if you still feel the same after that.”
When Mara started working with Tai’s team sixteen years ago, she had done so out of desperation. She had never intended to stay. Now, she was faced with adding someone new to their duo. With giving a stranger access to the secure life she had finally built for herself. Just the thought sent a rush of oxygen to that burning fear, igniting it in her belly.
Mara grimaced. “I don’t like it.”
“I know,” Tai said. “But you have to try.”
“I am trying,” Mara turned back to the weapons, storing the pistol she had dropped and picking up her her knives, sheathing them in soft leather.
His silence told her that he believed her lie exactly as much as she did. She felt his gaze on her neck as she finished her work.
“You know not everyone is out to get you,” he said. “I think you’d be happier if you could believe that.”
Mara stepped out into the crowd on the docks at Boundless Station. The population of this station was a relatively equal mix of human and nareian; a commercial hub that blended goods from both sides of the border. It was late in station time when they arrived, the artificial twenty-four hour day favored by humans creeping into its final hours, but the station still bustled in the dim lighting, the fluorescent signs of bars and clubs taking the place of the fake sunlight that would have brightened the streets earlier in the day.
“They’re being smart,” Tai said, squinting at the feed he had brought up on his palm drive. The little holographic screen hovered over his arm. “They haven’t used any of the stolen identities to make purchases. My guess is they’re planning to sell them.”
Mara’s neck prickled. Humans often stared at her and Tai—it was worse the deeper into Union space they went, but even here in this border station, they were getting looks. Mara knew the way humans talked about nareians: as predators, fearsome and dangerous. Early communications after first contact had compared Mara’s race with a family of animals from the already-abandoned homeworld of humanity: big cats. Mara found the human names for these animals ridiculous, but she used the comparison to her advantage.
She turned her head, glaring at the short, stocky man who had been watching her with suspicion. She bared her teeth at him, the effect predictable. He backed hastily away, and Mara returned to her conversation with Tai.
“They’ll be looking for a new ship,” Mara said. “Now that they’re across the border, they’ll want to change their vehicle, their documentation.”
“But they haven’t done it yet,” Tai said. “One of the old personas made a purchase this afternoon at a bar called the Babylon.”
“Sounds fun,” Mara said. “You thirsty?”
Tai closed the readout on his palm drive and grinned. “Sure am.”
They headed for the Babylon, which was crowded. The low lighting and background hum of conversation provided a sense of secrecy and privacy that was perhaps undeserved. Mara and Tai took seats at the bar and ordered their drinks. Despite being on a human-run station, Mara was pleased to see a variety of nareian liquors behind the bar, as well as a menu that offered flavors from both sides of the border. She ordered a double siltyr and a mixed fry basket. The bartender poured the aromatic nareian liquor and slid the glass across the counter to her as Tai placed his order.
They waited for their food to come before they started asking questions. The bartender remembered the pair that had come by the bar earlier, but clammed up when they started asking questions. Tai flashed his permit from the Olean law enforcement office, and then his fugitive retrieval identification sealed by the Empress of Narei for good measure. Mara had one of those as well, under a name that most certainly was not her own. She would flash it ostentatiously, too, if her mother’s name didn’t sour her stomach every time she saw it.
The bartender was unimpressed. “I have customers. You going to order anything else?”
“I might.” Mara slipped one of her knives from their sheath at her hip and thumbed it idly. She didn’t look at the bartender, but she felt his eyes slide to her blade.
Tai sipped his drink, keeping his eyes on the bartender and his face blank. Sometimes, flashing the badge and Tai’s sweet smile was effective. Sometimes, it took Mara and the glint of steel. Her smile wasn’t nearly as sweet.
“Look,” the bartender said. “I have a business to run.”
“And two digital thieves who don’t intend to spend more than a light-second on this filthy station are your strongest customers?” Mara set the knife on the bar, her fingers tracing the hilt. She shook her head sadly.
“I’m afraid that doesn’t sound like a very good business model,” Tai said.
Mara made a show of looking around. “It’s busy,” she noted. “Seems like you’re doing well enough without the business of two thieves.” She looked back at the bartender, meeting his eyes with a stare she had sharpened over the years until it gleamed like her weapon of choice. “Hate to think how that might change if two bounty hunters made a scene right now, with so many witnesses.”
The bartender swallowed. He looked between Mara and Tai again, then leaned forward, resting his hands on the bar in resignation. He told them what he knew of the two thieves. They had seemed nervous, in a hurry. They spent much of the hour or so that they had passed in the bar whispering to each other in a corner booth. It was early enough for the bar to be mostly empty, or he might not have noticed them, their odd behavior lost in the crowd.
“They were looking for somewhere to stay,” he said. “Sounds like they were planning to be here just a few days and then book flights out. But they got real quiet every time I came to the table, so I didn’t get much more than that.”
Tai nodded, sending his contact details to the bartender’s palm drive. The device pinged in acknowledgment.
“If they come around again, or if you remember anything else…”
“I’ll get in touch.”
“Thanks,” Tai said, flashing his smile again. The bartender relaxed a little. Mara grinned, too, baring her pointed teeth, and he fled into the back room.
Mara followed Tai out of the bar.
“Never fails,” Tai chuckled softly as they wove through the busy station corridors.
“It’s a gift,” Mara replied. She considered what they had learned from the bartender. “So our targets are hitching a ride out, not buying a new ship. And sounds like they’ve already scheduled the meeting with a buyer.”
Tai frowned. “It’s not enough to track them down.”
Mara shrugged. “It’s a start.”
Tai’s palm drive alerted, then, and he glanced down, a smile curling back up his face.
“I put out some feelers with our network. They bought new identities this morning.”
“They’re making their move,” Mara said. She pulled up her own palm drive, searching for financial transactions under the new names that Tai sent to her. She got a hit immediately: a reservation for a room at a hotel on-station. Two nights.
Mara grinned. She loved this part, when the targets got overconfident. She knew better than most that a new name and new identification documents didn’t stop a good hunter. She’d been on both sides of that.
“Found them,” Mara said. “We move tonight.”
“They’re being smart,” Tai said, squinting at the feed he had brought up on his palm drive. The little holographic screen hovered over his arm. “They haven’t used any of the stolen identities to make purchases. My guess is they’re planning to sell them.”
Mara’s neck prickled. Humans often stared at her and Tai—it was worse the deeper into Union space they went, but even here in this border station, they were getting looks. Mara knew the way humans talked about nareians: as predators, fearsome and dangerous. Early communications after first contact had compared Mara’s race with a family of animals from the already-abandoned homeworld of humanity: big cats. Mara found the human names for these animals ridiculous, but she used the comparison to her advantage.
She turned her head, glaring at the short, stocky man who had been watching her with suspicion. She bared her teeth at him, the effect predictable. He backed hastily away, and Mara returned to her conversation with Tai.
“They’ll be looking for a new ship,” Mara said. “Now that they’re across the border, they’ll want to change their vehicle, their documentation.”
“But they haven’t done it yet,” Tai said. “One of the old personas made a purchase this afternoon at a bar called the Babylon.”
“Sounds fun,” Mara said. “You thirsty?”
Tai closed the readout on his palm drive and grinned. “Sure am.”
They headed for the Babylon, which was crowded. The low lighting and background hum of conversation provided a sense of secrecy and privacy that was perhaps undeserved. Mara and Tai took seats at the bar and ordered their drinks. Despite being on a human-run station, Mara was pleased to see a variety of nareian liquors behind the bar, as well as a menu that offered flavors from both sides of the border. She ordered a double siltyr and a mixed fry basket. The bartender poured the aromatic nareian liquor and slid the glass across the counter to her as Tai placed his order.
They waited for their food to come before they started asking questions. The bartender remembered the pair that had come by the bar earlier, but clammed up when they started asking questions. Tai flashed his permit from the Olean law enforcement office, and then his fugitive retrieval identification sealed by the Empress of Narei for good measure. Mara had one of those as well, under a name that most certainly was not her own. She would flash it ostentatiously, too, if her mother’s name didn’t sour her stomach every time she saw it.
The bartender was unimpressed. “I have customers. You going to order anything else?”
“I might.” Mara slipped one of her knives from their sheath at her hip and thumbed it idly. She didn’t look at the bartender, but she felt his eyes slide to her blade.
Tai sipped his drink, keeping his eyes on the bartender and his face blank. Sometimes, flashing the badge and Tai’s sweet smile was effective. Sometimes, it took Mara and the glint of steel. Her smile wasn’t nearly as sweet.
“Look,” the bartender said. “I have a business to run.”
“And two digital thieves who don’t intend to spend more than a light-second on this filthy station are your strongest customers?” Mara set the knife on the bar, her fingers tracing the hilt. She shook her head sadly.
“I’m afraid that doesn’t sound like a very good business model,” Tai said.
Mara made a show of looking around. “It’s busy,” she noted. “Seems like you’re doing well enough without the business of two thieves.” She looked back at the bartender, meeting his eyes with a stare she had sharpened over the years until it gleamed like her weapon of choice. “Hate to think how that might change if two bounty hunters made a scene right now, with so many witnesses.”
The bartender swallowed. He looked between Mara and Tai again, then leaned forward, resting his hands on the bar in resignation. He told them what he knew of the two thieves. They had seemed nervous, in a hurry. They spent much of the hour or so that they had passed in the bar whispering to each other in a corner booth. It was early enough for the bar to be mostly empty, or he might not have noticed them, their odd behavior lost in the crowd.
“They were looking for somewhere to stay,” he said. “Sounds like they were planning to be here just a few days and then book flights out. But they got real quiet every time I came to the table, so I didn’t get much more than that.”
Tai nodded, sending his contact details to the bartender’s palm drive. The device pinged in acknowledgment.
“If they come around again, or if you remember anything else…”
“I’ll get in touch.”
“Thanks,” Tai said, flashing his smile again. The bartender relaxed a little. Mara grinned, too, baring her pointed teeth, and he fled into the back room.
Mara followed Tai out of the bar.
“Never fails,” Tai chuckled softly as they wove through the busy station corridors.
“It’s a gift,” Mara replied. She considered what they had learned from the bartender. “So our targets are hitching a ride out, not buying a new ship. And sounds like they’ve already scheduled the meeting with a buyer.”
Tai frowned. “It’s not enough to track them down.”
Mara shrugged. “It’s a start.”
Tai’s palm drive alerted, then, and he glanced down, a smile curling back up his face.
“I put out some feelers with our network. They bought new identities this morning.”
“They’re making their move,” Mara said. She pulled up her own palm drive, searching for financial transactions under the new names that Tai sent to her. She got a hit immediately: a reservation for a room at a hotel on-station. Two nights.
Mara grinned. She loved this part, when the targets got overconfident. She knew better than most that a new name and new identification documents didn’t stop a good hunter. She’d been on both sides of that.
“Found them,” Mara said. “We move tonight.”
It was late at night, just as the dark of the station was preparing to turn to morning, when they moved in. The room was at the end of one of the corridors branching out from the lobby. Noise came from the other rooms along the hall, the sounds of quarrels and cheap rentals. That would make their job easier. It was always easier to do this work without an audience.
Mara shouldered the door open as soon as Tai unlocked it with the digital key the front desk had given him. She pushed in with her plasma pistol in one hand, her other hand caressing the hilt of one of the knives strapped to her hip.
The room was dark. Behind her, Tai moved in, weapon up. She nodded, and he palmed the light controls. The space brightened, plunged into a harsh light. Mara blinked.
The bed was unmade, the desk strewn with clothing. The place was a wreck, torn apart.
“We’re not the first to come here,” Mara said. She prowled the room with careful steps, checking behind furniture and beneath the bed. “Another team?”
Tai made an annoyed sound. “My contacts swear that no one else was even asking about these identities.”
“Maybe they were followed here,” Mara suggested.
“Maybe.” Tai sighed and holstered his gun.
They rented a room on the station, preparing to settle in and track down their missing targets. The place was a cramped one-room apartment paid by the hour in the deep interior of the station, where the air was humid from the life support systems and everything smelled slightly of mildew and rust.
Mara paced for a while, fingering the blade of one of her knives as Tai scrolled through his data pad, eyes narrowed in concentration. Tension hummed in Mara’s veins, and she eventually abandoned the nervous ruminations of her fingers over the blade for target practice, aiming her blades for a small, dark stain on the wall and leaving her own marks to join it.
Tai stood, folding his arms and coming to lean against the wall just to the left of Mara’s practice range. He raised an eyebrow.
“We're going to get charged for damages."
"You can take it out of my cut,” Mara replied.
The other eyebrow joined its companion. “Oh, I was going to."
“Find anything?” Mara jerked her head toward the recently-abandoned data pad. She turned away from the wall, sheathing the knife she had been preparing to throw.
“Not yet,” he said. “It must be another team. I just don’t understand why no one has updated the listing. They should have reported in if they’d captured the targets.”
Mara frowned. “I don’t like this.”
Tai’s eyes softened. “You feeling spooked?”
“I don’t like it,” she said. “I don’t know why.”
He nodded. “If you really think we should leave, we can.”
Mara considered his offer. This was something he had promised her, years ago when she finally told him the details of her childhood, her weighty inheritance, the pressure her mother would continue to put on the entire galaxy until Mara was found and returned to the palace. Any time you feel unsafe, he said. Any time you think we should bail on a job, we bail. No questions.
It was a lot of power to give a person, and Mara took that power seriously because it was Tai who had handed it over.
Most reputable bounty hunters didn’t have to work this way, and if Mara was being honest with herself, it was part of her resistance to hiring a third. Who would choose this way of life? Their former partners had been with Tai long before Mara met them. It was different, back then. She didn’t know just how much she would have to run. It had just become a part of their life, slowly, boiling them all alive before they even noticed. She couldn’t blame Ushue and Andar for retiring. She wished she could do the same.
But it had been years since the last bounty expired, years since she’d last found Imperial Guard tracking them. There had been no sign of pursuit in those years, and yet she still behaved like they were just around the next corner. It cost her so much to live this way. It cost Tai. Was it really so absurd to think her mother had finally given up?
“No,” she said. “No, it’s fine. We’re about to hire someone new, and I’m probably just worried about that. I’m not good with change.”
“You’re good with change if you’re the one making it,” Tai said.
He held out his arms, and Mara relaxed, wrapping her arms around his waist. Insight flashed, bursting into the space that had just cleared in her mind. She stepped back abruptly.
“What if it’s the buyer?”
“What do you mean?” Tai asked.
She pulled her data pad from its pack and sat at the apartment’s tiny desk to run through the case file.
“The targets had shed their old identities already. They were preparing to leave, the job was almost over for them. They were planning to meet their buyer.”
Tai leaned over, bracing his arms on either side of her, reading over her shoulder. “You think the deal went sour?”
“Maybe,” Mara said. “It’s possible the buyer tricked them, or that they were being followed by someone else who wanted to get their cut.”
“You think the theft was a hire?”
“I don’t know,” Mara said. “But that bartender said they seemed really nervous. Could be that they thought more than just law enforcement would be looking for them.”
She stood, pulling her knives from the wall, strapping them to her legs and hips one by one.
“I’m going to talk to that bartender again,” she said. “You want to come?”
Tai shook his head, taking a seat again on the bed and pulling out his data pad. “I’m going to run another search, see if maybe they picked up some new identities.”
Mara turned toward the door, but Tai grabbed her hand, swinging her back to him for a kiss.
“Bring us some food when you come back?”
She grinned. “Sure thing.”
Mara shouldered the door open as soon as Tai unlocked it with the digital key the front desk had given him. She pushed in with her plasma pistol in one hand, her other hand caressing the hilt of one of the knives strapped to her hip.
The room was dark. Behind her, Tai moved in, weapon up. She nodded, and he palmed the light controls. The space brightened, plunged into a harsh light. Mara blinked.
The bed was unmade, the desk strewn with clothing. The place was a wreck, torn apart.
“We’re not the first to come here,” Mara said. She prowled the room with careful steps, checking behind furniture and beneath the bed. “Another team?”
Tai made an annoyed sound. “My contacts swear that no one else was even asking about these identities.”
“Maybe they were followed here,” Mara suggested.
“Maybe.” Tai sighed and holstered his gun.
They rented a room on the station, preparing to settle in and track down their missing targets. The place was a cramped one-room apartment paid by the hour in the deep interior of the station, where the air was humid from the life support systems and everything smelled slightly of mildew and rust.
Mara paced for a while, fingering the blade of one of her knives as Tai scrolled through his data pad, eyes narrowed in concentration. Tension hummed in Mara’s veins, and she eventually abandoned the nervous ruminations of her fingers over the blade for target practice, aiming her blades for a small, dark stain on the wall and leaving her own marks to join it.
Tai stood, folding his arms and coming to lean against the wall just to the left of Mara’s practice range. He raised an eyebrow.
“We're going to get charged for damages."
"You can take it out of my cut,” Mara replied.
The other eyebrow joined its companion. “Oh, I was going to."
“Find anything?” Mara jerked her head toward the recently-abandoned data pad. She turned away from the wall, sheathing the knife she had been preparing to throw.
“Not yet,” he said. “It must be another team. I just don’t understand why no one has updated the listing. They should have reported in if they’d captured the targets.”
Mara frowned. “I don’t like this.”
Tai’s eyes softened. “You feeling spooked?”
“I don’t like it,” she said. “I don’t know why.”
He nodded. “If you really think we should leave, we can.”
Mara considered his offer. This was something he had promised her, years ago when she finally told him the details of her childhood, her weighty inheritance, the pressure her mother would continue to put on the entire galaxy until Mara was found and returned to the palace. Any time you feel unsafe, he said. Any time you think we should bail on a job, we bail. No questions.
It was a lot of power to give a person, and Mara took that power seriously because it was Tai who had handed it over.
Most reputable bounty hunters didn’t have to work this way, and if Mara was being honest with herself, it was part of her resistance to hiring a third. Who would choose this way of life? Their former partners had been with Tai long before Mara met them. It was different, back then. She didn’t know just how much she would have to run. It had just become a part of their life, slowly, boiling them all alive before they even noticed. She couldn’t blame Ushue and Andar for retiring. She wished she could do the same.
But it had been years since the last bounty expired, years since she’d last found Imperial Guard tracking them. There had been no sign of pursuit in those years, and yet she still behaved like they were just around the next corner. It cost her so much to live this way. It cost Tai. Was it really so absurd to think her mother had finally given up?
“No,” she said. “No, it’s fine. We’re about to hire someone new, and I’m probably just worried about that. I’m not good with change.”
“You’re good with change if you’re the one making it,” Tai said.
He held out his arms, and Mara relaxed, wrapping her arms around his waist. Insight flashed, bursting into the space that had just cleared in her mind. She stepped back abruptly.
“What if it’s the buyer?”
“What do you mean?” Tai asked.
She pulled her data pad from its pack and sat at the apartment’s tiny desk to run through the case file.
“The targets had shed their old identities already. They were preparing to leave, the job was almost over for them. They were planning to meet their buyer.”
Tai leaned over, bracing his arms on either side of her, reading over her shoulder. “You think the deal went sour?”
“Maybe,” Mara said. “It’s possible the buyer tricked them, or that they were being followed by someone else who wanted to get their cut.”
“You think the theft was a hire?”
“I don’t know,” Mara said. “But that bartender said they seemed really nervous. Could be that they thought more than just law enforcement would be looking for them.”
She stood, pulling her knives from the wall, strapping them to her legs and hips one by one.
“I’m going to talk to that bartender again,” she said. “You want to come?”
Tai shook his head, taking a seat again on the bed and pulling out his data pad. “I’m going to run another search, see if maybe they picked up some new identities.”
Mara turned toward the door, but Tai grabbed her hand, swinging her back to him for a kiss.
“Bring us some food when you come back?”
She grinned. “Sure thing.”
The bartender knew nothing more, no matter how many ways Mara pressed him. He couldn’t recall seeing anyone else strange in the bar that afternoon, and the anxiety of the pair of hackers could have been interpreted any of a hundred ways, now that Mara knew they had gone missing. They could have left the station in their panic, leaning on yet another set of identities she hadn’t found yet. They could have been eliminated by another set of thieves intent on getting the payoff or a buyer uninterested in giving them their cut. Or another team of bounty hunters could have picked them up, failing for whatever reason to report their catch, and any minute now she and Tai would receive an update on the job board that they had been returned to Olea.
She left in a foul mood, sheathing her favorite knife.
Mara went searching for somewhere to pick up a meal, turning up her nose at every option she passed. She knew her distaste had more to do with her mood than her appetites, but she couldn’t settle on anything.
The more she walked, the more her annoyance turned to unease. In a city-station full of people, she expected the jostling of bodies everywhere. But she couldn’t shake the feeling that there were more than a few deliberately hiding themselves in shadowed alcoves and melting into the crowd when she turned her head. Maybe Tai was giving her too much credit. She was starting to feel paranoid.
She turned down a few corridors at random, but the behavior continued. She had nearly forgotten her initial mission, her focus instead on whether or not she was being pursued.
Her wanderings took her to a section of the station that was less populated. Here, the crowds thinned out, and the shadows of steel crossbeams were unbroken by the movement of pedestrians. She dropped to her quadrupedal stance and ran.
Muffled footsteps behind her confirmed her fears. She didn’t know who it was, but someone had taken an interest in her. If her pursuers were anything but nareian, her four-legged sprint would put enough distance between them to bring her to safety. She and Tai could flee the station. Fuck the job. Fuck their terrible finances. Right now, Mara needed to lose her pursuers and then get herself and Tai to the Nasdenika.
She slowed, briefly, and heard silence behind her. The footsteps had stopped. Had she lost them? Or had they never been following her in the first place? Was this just the paranoid imagining of someone who had been on the run for too long?
Still, fear gripped her stomach, and she hurried back to their little rented apartment. As she turned the corner, she saw a crowd filling the usually-quiet alley where they were staying. She ran down the hall, pushing human, szacante, and nareian onlookers aside in her haste. The pit in her stomach rose into her throat, nausea pushing on the back of her tongue, filling her mouth with the taste of bile.
The door to their room was ajar, sticky purple blood expanding slowly into the crowd of onlookers. It squelched beneath Mara’s boots as she pushed into the room.
He was dead.
Mara stood over Tai’s body as time stretched out. The natural markings that patterned his skin looked darker as his purple blood fled his veins. His body—always the pinnacle of nareian beauty with its broad shoulders and curved, muscular limbs—lay limp and weak on the floor of the apartment they had rented.
They had shared more than a decade. They had built a life that was theirs, as rough around the edges as it was.
Now, Tai’s eyes stared up at the ceiling, their golden fire extinguished.
Their room was quiet, clean. Tai lay in the middle of it, a neat singed hole in his forehead, eyes open.
Imperial Guard. She would recognize their work anywhere. After all, they had been the first to train her in the art of combat.
She had to move fast.
Back through the crowd she went, pushing bodies aside as violently to leave the apartment as she had to arrive at it. If they hadn’t found her ship yet, they’d find it soon. She couldn’t waste a second.
Some part of her screamed to turn back, to check again. It was the same part that wanted her to believe Tai could still be alive. That maybe if she had stopped for longer, had looked closer, she would see her mistake. It was someone else in their hotel room, liters of some stranger’s purple blood outside his body instead of in. It was someone else with two brushstroke markings sweeping along his face. Someone else whose warm amber eyes were dead jewels.
That part of her would get her killed, so she kept on her hurried path toward the dock.
When she arrived, she saw Imperial Guard speaking with Port Authority. She ducked to the side, scanning the space quickly. The Nasdenika wasn’t surrounded. The only Guard presence was at the main office. They hadn’t found her ship yet.
It would be a matter of minutes.
Mara ran.
She broke through the swarm of bodies in the narrow entrance to the docks. They shouted, scrambling to catch her, but she shot back at them wildly. She didn’t care who she hit.
They wouldn’t dare shoot at her. She had that advantage at least.
The Nasdenika opened to her, and she skidded to a halt inside the airlock, shutting the door behind her, sealing herself in. In the heart of the ship, the two seats sat empty in front of the control panel. Mara slid into the pilot’s seat, strapping herself in with one hand as she entered the commands to start up the ship with the other.
The hangar bay of a station like this couldn’t be sealed off instantaneously. It would take a few minutes. They had to stop traffic, to wait for the light delays in communication. There was a lag—there was always a lag. She and Tai had lost more than one bounty that way, slipping away in the seconds before everything stopped.
Her throat closed at the memories and she shoved them down, her eyes burning.
Mara moved both hands to the controls, detaching the Nasdenika from the dock. A warning came over the comms: a command to stand down. She almost laughed, but the pit in her throat was too large. It blocked her bitter joy. They could warn her all they wanted. She would rather be dead than return home, and they would all lose their jobs—and likely their heads—if they killed the crown princess of Narei.
She looked at the empty seat beside her and pulled on the controls. The Nasdenika bucked, accelerating toward the hangar’s doors, which were just starting to blink the yellow warning lights that indicated they would be closing.
As the doors lowered, Mara pushed her ship as hard as she could, slipping through the gap, hurtling away from the pull of the station. She stretched the Nasdenika’s limits, until the little craft trembled around her, shaking as erratically as her hands. The proximity light on the panel was still red. Her FTL drive wouldn’t engage this close. She had to get a little farther away.
Imperial Guard and Station Security ships poured out of the station—the doors had been halted, reopening to spit Mara’s enemies into the black of space. She just had to get a little farther…
The light switched from red to green. Mara engaged her FTL drive, the heart-pounding shaking of the ship abruptly giving way to a smooth, powerful pull.
And then silence, peace. She had made the jump.
They couldn’t follow her now.
Mara slumped forward in the chair, her heart beating wildly. Her hands still shook, and she clutched them against her chest. She could see the purple stains of Tai’s blood on her boots, and she unstrapped herself from the seat with just enough time to make it to the ship’s head to vomit.
Crouched on the cold floor, stomach emptied and adrenaline slowly bleeding away, Mara considered her options. Her false identification was useless now, but she had a backup. She had three or four waiting to be activated in her palm drive. She picked one now. Zamya Ausran would be her name from here on.
She pulled herself from the floor, walking with trembling legs back to the main room of the ship. This room was filled with memories of Tai. His laughter leaked out with the beeps of the comm panel, his warmth waited in the tiny fold-down bunk along the wall.
Mara went instead into the little cramped brig. The place they kept their targets on the return home from a successful hunt. It was dark in there. She didn’t touch the panel that would control the lighting. Instead, she curled up on the padded floor, pulling her knees up to her chest.
In the dark, it didn’t matter if her eyes were open or closed; she could see Tai’s face, his amber eyes wide and empty, purple blood a dark stripe down his face, smeared across the brushstrokes of his natural markings.
Mara knew she could never go back. She couldn’t live through this again, couldn’t risk someone like that again.
From this day, she would work alone.
She left in a foul mood, sheathing her favorite knife.
Mara went searching for somewhere to pick up a meal, turning up her nose at every option she passed. She knew her distaste had more to do with her mood than her appetites, but she couldn’t settle on anything.
The more she walked, the more her annoyance turned to unease. In a city-station full of people, she expected the jostling of bodies everywhere. But she couldn’t shake the feeling that there were more than a few deliberately hiding themselves in shadowed alcoves and melting into the crowd when she turned her head. Maybe Tai was giving her too much credit. She was starting to feel paranoid.
She turned down a few corridors at random, but the behavior continued. She had nearly forgotten her initial mission, her focus instead on whether or not she was being pursued.
Her wanderings took her to a section of the station that was less populated. Here, the crowds thinned out, and the shadows of steel crossbeams were unbroken by the movement of pedestrians. She dropped to her quadrupedal stance and ran.
Muffled footsteps behind her confirmed her fears. She didn’t know who it was, but someone had taken an interest in her. If her pursuers were anything but nareian, her four-legged sprint would put enough distance between them to bring her to safety. She and Tai could flee the station. Fuck the job. Fuck their terrible finances. Right now, Mara needed to lose her pursuers and then get herself and Tai to the Nasdenika.
She slowed, briefly, and heard silence behind her. The footsteps had stopped. Had she lost them? Or had they never been following her in the first place? Was this just the paranoid imagining of someone who had been on the run for too long?
Still, fear gripped her stomach, and she hurried back to their little rented apartment. As she turned the corner, she saw a crowd filling the usually-quiet alley where they were staying. She ran down the hall, pushing human, szacante, and nareian onlookers aside in her haste. The pit in her stomach rose into her throat, nausea pushing on the back of her tongue, filling her mouth with the taste of bile.
The door to their room was ajar, sticky purple blood expanding slowly into the crowd of onlookers. It squelched beneath Mara’s boots as she pushed into the room.
He was dead.
Mara stood over Tai’s body as time stretched out. The natural markings that patterned his skin looked darker as his purple blood fled his veins. His body—always the pinnacle of nareian beauty with its broad shoulders and curved, muscular limbs—lay limp and weak on the floor of the apartment they had rented.
They had shared more than a decade. They had built a life that was theirs, as rough around the edges as it was.
Now, Tai’s eyes stared up at the ceiling, their golden fire extinguished.
Their room was quiet, clean. Tai lay in the middle of it, a neat singed hole in his forehead, eyes open.
Imperial Guard. She would recognize their work anywhere. After all, they had been the first to train her in the art of combat.
She had to move fast.
Back through the crowd she went, pushing bodies aside as violently to leave the apartment as she had to arrive at it. If they hadn’t found her ship yet, they’d find it soon. She couldn’t waste a second.
Some part of her screamed to turn back, to check again. It was the same part that wanted her to believe Tai could still be alive. That maybe if she had stopped for longer, had looked closer, she would see her mistake. It was someone else in their hotel room, liters of some stranger’s purple blood outside his body instead of in. It was someone else with two brushstroke markings sweeping along his face. Someone else whose warm amber eyes were dead jewels.
That part of her would get her killed, so she kept on her hurried path toward the dock.
When she arrived, she saw Imperial Guard speaking with Port Authority. She ducked to the side, scanning the space quickly. The Nasdenika wasn’t surrounded. The only Guard presence was at the main office. They hadn’t found her ship yet.
It would be a matter of minutes.
Mara ran.
She broke through the swarm of bodies in the narrow entrance to the docks. They shouted, scrambling to catch her, but she shot back at them wildly. She didn’t care who she hit.
They wouldn’t dare shoot at her. She had that advantage at least.
The Nasdenika opened to her, and she skidded to a halt inside the airlock, shutting the door behind her, sealing herself in. In the heart of the ship, the two seats sat empty in front of the control panel. Mara slid into the pilot’s seat, strapping herself in with one hand as she entered the commands to start up the ship with the other.
The hangar bay of a station like this couldn’t be sealed off instantaneously. It would take a few minutes. They had to stop traffic, to wait for the light delays in communication. There was a lag—there was always a lag. She and Tai had lost more than one bounty that way, slipping away in the seconds before everything stopped.
Her throat closed at the memories and she shoved them down, her eyes burning.
Mara moved both hands to the controls, detaching the Nasdenika from the dock. A warning came over the comms: a command to stand down. She almost laughed, but the pit in her throat was too large. It blocked her bitter joy. They could warn her all they wanted. She would rather be dead than return home, and they would all lose their jobs—and likely their heads—if they killed the crown princess of Narei.
She looked at the empty seat beside her and pulled on the controls. The Nasdenika bucked, accelerating toward the hangar’s doors, which were just starting to blink the yellow warning lights that indicated they would be closing.
As the doors lowered, Mara pushed her ship as hard as she could, slipping through the gap, hurtling away from the pull of the station. She stretched the Nasdenika’s limits, until the little craft trembled around her, shaking as erratically as her hands. The proximity light on the panel was still red. Her FTL drive wouldn’t engage this close. She had to get a little farther away.
Imperial Guard and Station Security ships poured out of the station—the doors had been halted, reopening to spit Mara’s enemies into the black of space. She just had to get a little farther…
The light switched from red to green. Mara engaged her FTL drive, the heart-pounding shaking of the ship abruptly giving way to a smooth, powerful pull.
And then silence, peace. She had made the jump.
They couldn’t follow her now.
Mara slumped forward in the chair, her heart beating wildly. Her hands still shook, and she clutched them against her chest. She could see the purple stains of Tai’s blood on her boots, and she unstrapped herself from the seat with just enough time to make it to the ship’s head to vomit.
Crouched on the cold floor, stomach emptied and adrenaline slowly bleeding away, Mara considered her options. Her false identification was useless now, but she had a backup. She had three or four waiting to be activated in her palm drive. She picked one now. Zamya Ausran would be her name from here on.
She pulled herself from the floor, walking with trembling legs back to the main room of the ship. This room was filled with memories of Tai. His laughter leaked out with the beeps of the comm panel, his warmth waited in the tiny fold-down bunk along the wall.
Mara went instead into the little cramped brig. The place they kept their targets on the return home from a successful hunt. It was dark in there. She didn’t touch the panel that would control the lighting. Instead, she curled up on the padded floor, pulling her knees up to her chest.
In the dark, it didn’t matter if her eyes were open or closed; she could see Tai’s face, his amber eyes wide and empty, purple blood a dark stripe down his face, smeared across the brushstrokes of his natural markings.
Mara knew she could never go back. She couldn’t live through this again, couldn’t risk someone like that again.
From this day, she would work alone.
