Rorik ambled through the bustling streets of Kelb, his senses assaulted by the sounds, both focused and ambient. The smells of food, fuel, and people in various states of hygiene flooded his nostrils. The unending blur of cars and low flying aeroriders passed by at high speeds and a light shower of sand peppered his face, carried by a gentle, but hot breeze. Sauntering happily down the sidewalk, he chowed down on the latest round of delicious BBQ pork chops from Johanna’s. The succulent meat burst with flavor with every bite as he made his way back to the motel.

The planet’s now familiar cobalt sun rained down beams of radiant light over the bustling crowd of farmers, workers, and other denizens passing by. Further adding to the good mood he found himself in. He was nodding, and smiling in greeting like he was a regular joe, his spirit elated at the wonderful news he’d just received.

The crew of the Gizotso had survived.

More than survived actually, Cassandra had kept true to his expectations of her as an officer and had carried out his orders and the orders of Rikor to a tee. She’d left the first message earlier in the morning, saying that they’d be on their way soon, and another just an hour ago, saying that they were en route, with key information regarding Zahn’s telemetry in tow.

He felt more like himself again and the night before with Kara was a significant contributing factor. It was an intimate encounter that had been anything but expected, and they had both sorely needed it.

Rorik had known that woman for over three hundred years, and had never seen that side of her. As the years passed, wolves tended to wrap hardened layer after hardened layer around their hearts and minds. To insulate themselves from the psychological toll of an ever-changing world, or galaxy more aptly. And he'd almost forgotten that there was a genuine, vulnerable person underneath the rudeness, attitude, violence, anger, hatred, sarcasm, general inconsideration, condescending arrogance, and...well, under a lot of things. But, under all that was…

His best friend.

It took him a bit longer to reach Motel 67 at the edge of town, due to a few annoying detours from construction. The streets slowly became less and less populated as he went, and the sounds of life more distant. The motel itself was certainly one of the least pretty sights in Kelb, compared to everything else it was somewhat dilapidated. Even though its gray, durtanium exterior shined like most of the city’s architecture, parts of it were cracked and particularly worn. Its sign flickered and its parking lot was shoddy and under-maintained. Sand that should have been swept up by the syntho-forms, remained in large piles in front of some of the doors and what cars that had been there when he’d left, were long gone.

She certainly found the cheapest one in town like she'd wanted.

He pulled the pass card from his jumpsuit pocket as he reached the door, eager to tell Kara the good news, but his ears perked up to the sound of an unexpected conversation.

“You work around here of all places? There’s gotta be a job per month in this shit hole of a system.” Kara said, but her voice hadn’t come from their room, it had come from the far side alley, where some of the vending machines were stationed.

He slowed as he neared the corner, eager to investigate, the signature thrum of several male heart beats surrounded Kara’s own, as the conversation continued. At first he thought someone was trying to mug her, which would’ve been hilarious, but they sounded too calm, too steady. He wasn’t an expert on muggings, but he’d assumed that the run of the mill criminals would have much less control over themselves.

Rorik eased himself closer and peeked one eye around the corner. Half-way down the length of the alley next to the vending machines built into the wall, were eight men donned in stout, black and pewter gray battle-armor bristling with weapon-systems standing in a loose formation. Some wore helmets of varied, aggressive design and some did not. But they all had some kind of jet-boosters strapped to their backs. And each man carried a heavy duty assault rifle, most of which were fixed lazily at the ground. Kara, with her back to Rorik, was sitting at their feet, with some sort of strange, wiry restraining devices pinning her arms to her sides and her legs together.

“I said to keep your guns trained on her! She's more dangerous than she seems...now, where’s your partner, Nat? My employer wants to kill the both of you himself...intimately.” The armored figure Kara was facing said, his voice a deep, warbilized growl.

“I don’t have a partner and the only other person here is that idiot motel manager. If he comes this way, please shoot him in the face for me?” She paused as she glanced casually around at them. “How’d you find me anyway?”

“Broke into a municipal surveillance center earlier. Made tracking you here from a local bar and grill almost boring. You’ve gotten a little sloppy.”

“Didn’t even know there was a contract out on me again. And, it’s also a convenience store, Johanna’s one-stop shop, tell all your friends…mama always said pork chops would get me into trouble one day.”

“Oh, can we just stun her ass and drag her away drooling in the sand already, Griston? We can have some men watch the spaceport and the bar, then come back for her fuck-head friend later. The bat-ball game is going to be on in half an hour.”

“It’s fine, I got the deluxe pay-per-view, we can rewind it. But you make a good point. Take three men with you, I want two of you at each location, I don’t want blondie slipping through our fingers.”

Half of them took off at his order, a monstrous roar cracked the sky as their jet-boosters flared with a bright golden light that made him squint as they flew over the motel’s roof. Rorik had to duck underneath the second floor walkway to avoid being seen before returning to the corner.

“Just let me go for old times sake Griston.”

“For old times sake?!” He growled angrily.

“Okay, that's fair, I know they didn't end that well for you. But I’ll make it up to you and owe you a huge favor.”

“Oh, what kind of huge favor? Hope that friendly offer extends to the rest of the boys?” Another hunter taunted, chuckling heartily to himself.

“A professional favor, you ugly cue-ball fuck! You look like a forty-year old toddler with that shiny dick you call a head!” She snapped angrily, once again showcasing her aptitude for diplomacy.

A few of the other hunters laughed, but the bald man she’d insulted turned red as a ripened apple and started towards her with clenched fists. “You fucking bitch!”

“Easy, Taz, you won't do much damage that way anyway.”

With a deep inhale, Rorik focused his mind on the tactically unsound situation at hand, gnawing on the last pork chop absently as he thought. He had gathered enough information, but was still unsure of how to get the two of them out of this mess. The alley was a dangerously enclosed space and it’d quickly turn into a bloody turkey shoot, even if he flanked from the rooftop like he was inclined to do. Plus, with those jet-boosters, he might not be able to close the gap before they eventually whittled him down.

Not to mention their gear was top-of-the-line and they were obviously professionals. If they’d captured someone as experienced as her without much of a fight, that meant they were smart, sneaky, and were at least half good at their jobs. And if Kara couldn’t break free from her binds, he'd be facing them all alone. The blindest of bats could see that this would not be an easy fight, whichever way it went.

Think, James, think.

Reflexively glancing over his shoulder, he swiftly scanned the road behind him, inspecting the intermittent traffic. His eyes glossed over most of them with disinterest until he caught sight of a sleek green taxi slowly parking along the far curb. Its duty light, barely visible in the daylight, clicked off as the driver exited and stumbled slowly into a nearby residential building, clearly intoxicated.

A smile tugged at the corners of Rorik’s lips.

The taxi ripped around the corner, screeching and spraying sparks all over the terrastone road as it bucked over the lip of the alley, its powerful electric engine drummed, and the sides of its doors screamed in protest against the alley walls as Rorik put the pedal to the floor. Kara and her captors grew closer by the second and bullets forcefully dispersed shards of shattered glass into his face, spraying all over the cabin in a barrage of heavy gunfire. Most of the bounty hunters ignited their jet-boosters abruptly and wildly evaded into the air, firing at him sporadically as they got their bearings from the sheer randomness of the unexpected encounter.

Kara hopped up to her feet like a bunny rabbit, still bound in her restraints as she leapt unceremoniously through the windshield with a crash and impacted against the dark brown, leather passenger seat next to him with a pained grunt. Quickly followed by the bulky form of a hunter who had been too slow to take off. Sprawled out on the hood, the human desperately clambered to grab hold of the depression that the windshield wipers rested in, and at the same time pulled his rifle around to unload inaccurately into the backseat as he struggled to maintain his grip and aim.

A series of rounds whizzed by Rorik’s face, so close that he could feel the heat. With one hand he pinned the barrel uselessly to the ceiling as he whipped the car out of the alley into the road, barely avoiding a honking semi-truck as they skirted into the other lane.

Kara sat up and kicked at the hunters face, missing the first time due to her inhibited mobility, but the second connected with a crack. Sending the hunter tumbling forward, where he was quickly devoured by the insatiable hunger of the taxi’s burning rubber, shrieking as he died. His corpse made the car buck violently as Rorik fought to steer them straight again.

“Fuck yeah, dude! You sexy motherfucker!” She screamed as they soared forward, her only available gesture of excitement was to bob and worm side to side.

“Yeah, I’m damn good, aren’t I?” He said casually as he sat the rifle next to Kara's leg.

She started awkwardly straining and gnawing at the thick, bola-like wires wrapped around her torso, tearing away bits of metal with every bite until she finally burst free. “Well…and don't get me wrong, I'm grateful for the save. But your genius plan was to just run me over like a dog and hope it all worked out?!”

“Praise to bitching in under ten seconds? I guess things are back to normal. And regardless of how well-thought out it wasn’t, it worked.” Rorik snatched the last nibble of pork chop from his needlessly bright orange shirt’s breast pocket as he merged onto a raised highway. He hadn’t a destination in mind when he took off, but the sight of the spaceport looming in the distance was especially enticing.

Kara appraised him with suspicion. “Where did you get the money for more food?”

Rorik hesitated, cautiously clenching the last of his meal in between his teeth before finally biting down.

The tiniest hint of humor emanated from her gaze, alongside her substantial displeasure. “Well…I guess since you rescued me, I’ll only punch you in the gut half as hard.”

She really did care.

A gaping hole violently yawned open in the road to their left with a thundering impact, forcing Rorik into the far right lane to avoid a collision with a car that had swerved into their path. Looking over his shoulder and checking his mirrors, he caught glimpses of the hunters flying above and behind them, steadily gaining on them. Hailing projectiles and explosives down at them, the hunters pursued them with the fury of a torrential rainstorm of destruction, forcing Rorik to swerve side to side constantly, dodging between the now panicking human commuters. What had been a peaceful early morning drive for them in the desert city of Kelb had turned into a warzone in the blink of an eye.

The hunters’ aim was rather precisely focused towards them, but a number of passing Kelbians became unintended victims of their murderous onslaught. Either by crashing into the side walls, each other, or by being incinerated by misaimed rockets.

The bounties out on them had to be high…very high.

A human missile soared down from the sky and landed roughly upon their roof with a metal thud, quickly followed by a spray of bullets, most of which tore into the dash, but more than a few tore through his back and into the steering wheel.

“Argh!” Rorik grunted in pain as he barely avoided another car, the taxi’s tires screaming in protest as his nerves were set on fire. His vision started to blur in and out and his limbs felt sluggish, but…the rounds couldn't be silver…no…felt like something else, but still familiar.

“Fuck the bounty, Nat!” Griston’s warbilized voice screamed at the top of his lungs as he continued to fire. “You don't get to get away again!”

Kara grabbed the rifle by her leg and shattered her window, leaning out to unload into their unwanted guest. “You’re starting to get on my goddamn nerves!” Each syllable punctuated with bursts of automatic gunfire pinging off of his armor.

Griston rolled over to hang off the driver's side screaming with rage as he fired some sort of prong from his wrist-gauntlet into the hood, it crackled with electricity and the car started to slow. Rorik pushed even harder down on the pedal, to no effect, and even the wheel itself had been rendered useless.

“Piece of shit gun, I’m out!” Kara shouted.

Rorik, even though his skull now felt like it was about to explode, summoned his will and headbutted Griston in the chest-plate through the window, shards of glass embedding themselves into his face. The force of the blow tore the bounty hunter and his prongs away, sending him flying into the path of an oncoming semi-truck. But he recovered and soared back into the sky above, mere seconds before he would've been a human pancake.

Lucky fuck.

The rhythmic pulsing of sirens filled the air and with uncanny precision, two gray police vehicles soared down from out of the sky ahead of them. The harsh glare of blue and red lights illuminated the sandy street. And without a moment's hesitation, the police-aeroriders discharged their mounted weapons in rapid succession. Adding to the pandemonium as they targeted and swerved through the three remaining hunters' airborne formation, coming around for another run and thankfully occupying their attention.

“Fuck, you alright James, you don't look so hot?”

His eyes started to clear as his body expelled some of the foreign impediments. One of the bullets rolled out of his shirt and clattered onto the center console.

Kara inspected and sniffed at it. “Poison…juuta poison by the smell of it. Stuffs potent as fuck.” She felt at his now sweat drenched forehead.

“Name rings a bell.” He said with a hushed grunt.

“Vamps coat their stupid swords with it, pussies. You sure you alright?”

Rorik shook his head as he gathered himself. “I'll be fine, I think my head is clearing,” He cleared his throat of bile. “What you do to piss him off so much?”

“Not important. Right now, my existence seems to be reason enough.”

A shrill alarm split the air, almost loud enough to cancel out the sound of the firefight trailing behind them. And the signs posted along the side of the upcoming underpass ahead flashed a warning in a myriad of different languages. The ones familiar to Rorik stated a few, ill-timed words…

Sandstorm. Drive slowly and safely.

A rapidly building howl of wind joined the chaos and the fine grains of sand that hung in the air around them began to stir restlessly. From out of the horizon in the distance, a massive gust of sand ominously soared towards them, gathering momentum with each passing second. Along with a dramatic decrease in visibility came a muted roar, reminiscent of a distant beast awakening, as the sandstorm devoured them.

“It just had to get dumber, didn’t it?” Kara asked.

With the shattered windows and partially shattered windshield, Rorik could barely see as the sand poured in and bit at his eyes. And the fear of crashing sent even more adrenaline pumping into his bloodstream, further relinquishing the poison's hold on his mind as the other drivers began to heed the aforementioned warning, and lowered their speed. But Rorik couldn’t afford to drive safely, and with each passing second, another slow-moving car suddenly appeared, turning the already dangerous, high-speed maneuvers into an intense game of vehicular Tetris. The harsh desert winds whistled around them, and a chorus of angry horns followed in their wake. Rorik caught a glimpse of at least one of the hunters’ jet-boosters still following along the highway through the thick sand swirling behind them.

Might be able to lose them at the next exit.

“We headed to the spaceport?”

“Yeah, the Gizotso is en route, but we’ve obviously outstayed our welcome. This storm won’t last forever and these hunters will probably follow us all over the damn planet if we stick around here. Getting back to the mission is more important than playing tag with your old buddy or whatever the hell he is.”

“I knew they were still alive, I just knew it!” Kara yelled excitedly, before coughing from the excess sand in her mouth. She pushed the broken windshield forward and wedged a floor mat in the largest gap, but it didn't help much. “And yeah, we hooked up a few years back. I was on a collaborative deployment with some human mercs in the Hades system.”

“So, he’s yet another angry ex-boyfriend?”

“I mean, boyfriend’s sort of a strong word. All we did was fuck, fight, and eat kielbasa for the last week of the war, but I guess that still counts,” She paused to brace against the dash as they zoomed down an off-ramp and back into the city proper. “I mean, I get why he hates me, but I don’t know why all of my exes are bat-shit crazy and want to kill me.”

Rorik side-eyed her as he ran a red light. “Yeah, can’t imagine who—um, what the correlating factor could be there.”

The storm had been concentrated at the center of the city and as they neared its outskirts on the northeast side, the air began to clear more and more. Rorik didn’t see any hunters still on their tail, which either meant he’d lost them or they still had their hands full with the police.

As fast as he was driving, the port was almost in reach within mere minutes and the number of cloud-breakers slowly dwindled on either side of the road as they reached the outskirts of Kelb. A few city blocks and a stolen starship were all that remained between him and carrying on with finding Zahn. Having been sidetracked from their mission before they’d even really begun, just the thought of their string of shitty luck made him tighten his grip on the wheel. If the Primum had died in this wasted time and they could’ve done something about it, not only would his reputation hit the bottom of rock bottom, he’d probably be busted down to Recruit-Second Class. Rikor had made it clear that the penalty for grievous mistakes would be severe. Rorik glanced over at Kara, who was staring out the window and absently dancing to the radio, listening to some of the worst pop music he’d heard since at least 2011.

He’d lose a lot of things precious to him.

“Nat!”

A deafening explosion rocked the car, lifting it off of its wheels and sending Rorik's head smashing into the steering wheel. The airbag burst open, crushing his nose and launching them into a violent series of flips through the air before finally crashing through a wall.

As they careened out of control, Rorik was thrown about like a ragdoll, his skull colliding with every hard surface inside the car as his seatbelt dug into his neck. He tasted blood in his mouth and inhaled glass with every breath, the sensation of spinning and tumbling caused his mind to swirl in disorientation until it all…went…black.

But Kara's urgent voice cut through the chaos, snapping him back to reality with a deep inhale in between rapid blinks of realization. Before he could even remember what had happened, she ripped his door off, sliced through his seatbelt, and dragged him out of the wreckage.

Rorik's senses began to refocus as he leaned onto her for support. Years of combat training kicked in, pushing him to clear the pain and fog that clouded his mind.

“Come on, we have to move, the cops got him occupied!” She pulled out a large piece of glass embedded into her chest with a gasp, part of her beige jumpsuit now soaked red. “The port ain’t far now!” Kara shouted over the sound of sirens and gunfire echoing from outside. Slowly, she started them towards a flimsy metal door on the other side of the structure, the blue sun reflecting off of the small glass window at its top.

Rorik managed to stand and walk under his own power and took in their surroundings as they neared the exit; an automated factory of some sort, filled with shutdown conveyor belts and towering machinery.

“No, he's not going to stop Kara,” Rorik said grimly as he popped his nose back into place and limped back towards the gaping hole in the wall. “I'll handle Griston. You go for a ship.”

“What the fuck are you on about?!”

“He’s followed us across town, you really think he won’t follow us there?” The taste of bile and stomach acid made him pause. “He’s got too much firepower to just ignore, he’ll just blow up whatever ship we go for anyway.”

She started walking with him. “Okay, then we’ll do it together.” Kara said with stalwart determination.

"I’m in charge, remember? I want you to go to the port discreetly. You might be able to enter without alarming his men stationed there. If we both fight, then we risk being surrounded by his men and the police. And if things go south, I want to guarantee that at least one of us makes it back to the Gizotso. If we both go, Griston will fly in guns-a-blazing after us. All hell will break loose, and the chances of us flying out go down significantly. He wants a fight, and I’ll give it to him."

She stared angrily at him, and he could see the wheels of insubordination turning in her eyes.

Rorik put a hand gently on her shoulder. “Just don't forget to pick me up after you jack a ship,” Another of the poisoned bullets clattered to the ground at their feet as his wounds finished knitting and he instantly felt stronger. “Make sure it's fast.”

Slowly, Kara started back towards the door. “Fine kid, but don’t forget we’re immortal, not invincible. He’s damn good. If you take unnecessary risks with him, he will kill you. And if you die, I’m going to snap your fucking neck,” Kara kicked opened the door with a loud bang and paused. “Try to get up to higher ground when you get the chance. It’ll be easier for a rushed pick-up.”

As she ran out the door, a blood-curdling scream pierced through the hole in the wall. And Griston, the uniqueness of his dark gray and slightly red armor making him stand out from his men, landed with a heavy thud a few meters away, his jet-booster whining as it powered down. A dismembered human arm was impaled upon a glistening edged weapon that jutted from one of his wrist-gauntlets, dripping blood.

“Nice driving,” He growled inhumanly, nonchalantly sliding the dismembered limb off of his blade before sheathing it. “Where's Nat?”

Rorik angrily gestured back towards the burning wreckage behind him. “Dead,” He spat. “Satisfied?”

Griston let out a deep, hearty laugh. “All the hell we've survived together and she dies in an automobile…accident? You must think I'm a fool,” He placed a finger on the side of his helmet. “Team one, target one is on the lam, probably cutting over to the spaceport, deadly force is still authorized. The rest of you, take Kelb’s finest on a little chase, I don’t want to be interrupted.”

Rorik squinted with focused violence.

He truly wasn’t to be underestimated.

“There he is!” A Kelbian police woman shouted as she and two other officers fired into Griston’s back, but the bounty hunter turned on his heel and fired a single rocket from his gauntlet into the ceiling, collapsing the hole in the wall in a chorus of shattering bricks, breaking bones, and dying screams. A thick cloud of dust took over the air of the factory in the wake of the destruction.

“Fool I am not, blondie. I’ve seen Nat survive impossible things, do impossible things,” Griston continued as he casually turned back to Rorik. “I guess you’re like her too? Since you’re still standing and I'm pretty sure I unloaded more than a few rounds into you. So which is it? You guys mutants or genetically modified, what?”

“Come closer and find out.”

“Hmm, no thanks.” He said with a tone of finality as he raised his rifle and fired.

Rorik kipped up the taxi’s door at his feet and intercepted the bulk of the rounds, but a few penetrated and splattered into his gut. But with the abundance of adrenaline in his system, he barely felt it. And with his rage at its breaking point, the juuta poison, while noticeable, had less of an effect this time around.

Griston’s rifle clicked as he continued to pull the trigger and reached around for another magazine, but came up empty. “Hmm, maybe I will come closer, this should be interesting.” He threw the gun down and began reconfiguring his gauntlets, clicking parts out of place and placing the removed pieces along different pockets and compartments on his armor.

Tactically speaking, Rorik should’ve rushed him right then and there, but with his jet-booster it’d probably be a waste of his time. Besides, he wanted to buy time for Kara and was a little curious to how this would go. With the factory's high ceiling, Griston would have plenty of room to maneuver. And with the close proximity of the depowered machines, Rorik would have little room to move. He’d have to be fluid, acrobatic and cognizant of every obstacle surrounding him as he moved.

“Mind telling me who wants us dead?” Rorik finally asked evenly.

“Don’t know his name, scrapper by the looks and smells of him.” His voice dripped with malice as he finished with his configurations. The rocket launchers, now a pair of electrified knuckle-dusters that crackled with amethyst energy.

So Nebalo had survived after all.

“But the bounty be damned, you've pissed me off enough that I just want to watch the life drain from your eyes instead.”

Rorik started to unsheathe his claws…but he slowly replaced them. Instead he raised his fists in his old boxing stance and bounced on his heels.

With a roar, Griston's jet-boosters propelled him high into the air, his armored form sleek and surprisingly fast. Like a lightning bolt, he crashed down onto the terrastone surface where he’d had been standing just moments before, leaving behind a small crater as the violet energy crackled. Rorik landed from his backflip in a crouch and launched himself forward to punch the hunter square in his chest, sending Griston skirting back across the ground, his armor’s boots sparking against the floor.

Closing the gap, Rorik unleashed a combo of blows that rattled along the length of the man’s armor, his own knuckles cracking from the force. But he was barely denting it, it had to be neutron-treated, because hitting it hurt like a bitch. Griston reeled back and spun around to retaliate, the energized melee weapons slamming into Rorik’s face and ribs with inhuman strength, sending him stumbling back into a machine, where he just barely avoided another blow that nearly split the bulky metal device in half.

A spinning backfist sent Rorik reeling back, clutching his stomach as vomit and blood sprayed from between clenched teeth, clenched teeth that quickly warped into a crooked smile of genuine excitement.

The fight broke out into a flurry of reciprocal haymakers, jabs, and uppercuts. They went blow for blow to the sound of crackling energy reverberating off the walls as they danced across the room, tearing through different pieces of equipment with every passing second. Griston feinted and spun around to launch a series of barely perceptible darts cutting through the air towards him. But Rorik had heeded his own advice, and had remained fluid, he side-flipped behind a machine and kicked it forward with all of his might, sending it careening to crush his enemy. But the sound of an activating jet-booster took the place of the dying scream he’d been hoping to hear.

Kara was right, the man was damn good. If he’d been a powerful immortal, Rorik might be dead right now. But as good as Griston was, he was still only human. Even with the armor, the attrition of Rorik’s powerful strikes was starting to affect him, slowing him down. The toughest armor in the galaxy couldn’t fully protect the human body from blunt force trauma. And unfortunately for Griston, every blow he’d landed on Rorik, while painful in the moment, was healing almost as fast as he could hurt him.

Sparks flew as their fists collided, sending a series of agonizing jolts of electricity coursing through Rorik's body as one of the hunter’s dusters shattered. His whole arm turned numb from the release of the bright energy, but he didn’t care. Every toy of Griston's he broke meant he was one step closer to peeling his armor off and watching the life drain from his eyes.

Griston boosted to a walkway at the rear of the building, quickly replacing the broken duster with another attachment while firing a series of seeking rockets from the top of his jet-booster. Rorik twisted and turned in the air like a marionette, the heat from their exhaust singeing his clothing, slowly turning the orange fabric of his shirt black. Rapidly they exploded into balls of white light all over the room as they ran into walls and machines. Rolling into the corner, he waited for the last of them to come back around, but Griston fired a luminescent crimson beam that pierced through his shoulder and sent him flying back into the wall. He barely looked up in time to roll out of the way before the rocket exploded, sending him through an internal wall into a metal desk.

The bounty hunter strutted confidently around the corner. A slight limp in his gait as he released a spent cartridge from his new attachment. “Yeah, this is more like it, I haven't had a real fight in a long time.”

“Happy I could help,” Rorik grunted, still lying on the ground, studying the man to anticipate his next move. “I can see why Kara bothered with you.”

“Kara, Nat, either way I hate that crazy bitch," Griston laughed before audibly swallowing spit. "But, since we're having so much fun, you wanna know why?”

“Not really, I’m sure it’s a combination of the usual reasons.” Rorik quipped, buying time for his internal injuries to heal.

“For months, we risked our lives together for some bullshit clone-crop corporation. And in the end, after we’d celebrated our victory all..night..long, she had her men kill mine in their sleep, while she slept next to me in bed. Something about one of them having seen too much. Deciding to play it safe, she killed them all...smart I suppose. Leaving me alive only because, and I quote, “You’re just too good a time.”

Not that he cared, but Kara usually only killed for semi-reasonable purposes. Griston’s man probably saw a wolf change or eat a corpse. The very risk of unnecessary exposure was why they preferred to accept exclusive contracts. But beggars couldn’t always be choosers. “I wasn’t there, so I don't know what the fuck happened or why.”

“I know,” Griston growled evenly, replacing the spent cartridge with snap and a hiss. “I’d remember you.”

Rorik started to slowly rise, feigning injury as he reached behind him and hurled the desk as hard as could, a beam shot through the furniture and almost decapitated him as it sent Griston flying back out into the factory.

Fun time was over, this needed to end.

Flames had started to spread from the wrecked taxi and smoke rose to the ceiling as he stepped back into the wide room.

Griston punched the desk in half with his remaining duster and slowly rose to his feet, panting. “I’m beginning to dislike you too.”

The sound of screeching police ground vehicles arriving came from outside and Rorik heard the loud, booted pitter patter of feet surrounding the building. And even though Griston couldn’t hear as well as he could, he reacted as if he knew what was going on. Probably due to some sensor built into his armor; it probably costed an arm and a leg to get gear that good.

Griston rocketed back up to the walkway. “Well, I guess we'll pick this up after the heat dies down. Don't try to run, I'll be watching the port. And if you find out what Kara’s reasons were before then…give me a call.”

“I don't have your contact information.”

“I'm listed.” Griston grabbed something spherical from his belt and lobbed it at the ceiling, the explosion rocked the building and the cobalt light of day raced into the room, blinding Rorik for a moment. The human’s jet-boosters activated once again as he made for his improvised exit.

Fuck that, this would end now.

Rorik leapt quickly from machine to machine, and took to the air with a mighty leap, barely grabbing onto his foot as they soared out into the heat of the desert. Griston leered down at him as he tried to shake him off like a piece of shit stuck on the bottom of his boot, kicking furiously at his face. The sound of stray bullets from the police below zipped passed them as they climbed higher into the sky. He scanned the spaceport for any sign of an incoming ship. But it was hard to focus with Griston's relentless attacks and the deafening roar of his booster thrusters assaulting his eardrums.

“You want to fly blondie?! Fine, let’s go!” Griston spat, as he took them further up into the sky with a loud roar of his booster.

He wasn't exactly afraid of heights, but that didn't stop his palms from sweating, or the pit of his stomach from turning in on itself. Falling great distances was one of the more inconsistent risks to their immortality they could face. You either landed right and lived, or you didn't and died if no one else was there to put you back together in time.

But this was the fastest way to higher ground.

Rorik let him take them up towards the tips of the nearest cloud-breaker, so far into the sky he had to squint to see the cars down below. Waiting until they'd reach the building's apex, he jerked them towards the looming structure, using Griston’s limbs to steer like impromptu stabilizers.

“Arrgghh!” Griston grunted as he fought for control; trying to pull them away from the durtanium wall drawing closer by the millisecond.

Rorik climbed up to his back, his shirt and flesh catching fire as he brought elbow after elbow down into the main booster, incidentally causing them to increase speed as the propellant flickered in and out sporadically. His hair billowed into his eyes, making it difficult to see. And at the very last second, he kicked off of the bounty hunter, sending the man soaring down through the top window with a thundering crash. Rorik rolled violently on the gravel of the thin roof top, over and over until he almost fell off the other side, his face hanging dangerously over its edge. Looking down at the eight-hundred floor drop made his heart skip a beat.

Rorik cautiously rolled over and coughed as he choked on his own spit. His stomach rumbled, and with all this healing and fighting he’d been doing, he couldn’t say he was surprised.

Sometimes he wished that he could just live a normal life.

The door to the roof slammed open and Rorik sighed as Griston limped slowly towards him, his gauntlet blade shining menacingly in the bright sunlight. “Why…won’t…you—?”

“I get it,” Rorik said as he rose to his feet, suddenly feeling very, very tired. “Look it was a good fight, but I’m tired and you look beat to fucking hell. How about we just sit here and talk about our favorite colors or something…I really don’t want to move right now.”

Griston continued to stalk forward. “Then stand still, so I can take your head off and you won’t have to worry about moving anymore.”

Even when he tried to be reasonable, people still didn’t listen.

“Fine, let's just get this over with.”

Griston lunged, swung, and sliced in a blur of motion. And even though the crash had obviously slowed his reflexes, that didn't stop him from finally impaling Rorik with a fleshy squelch. He gasped as blood began to fill his lung, the sudden pain threw him off-balance and Griston drove him forward towards the edge of the roof. Driving his heels into the gravel he stopped their momentum dead and the hunter's blade drove all the way through his chest until it'd reached his fist.

"What the hell are you people?!"

Rorik's body was racked with agonizing torment, but he managed a smile, and his only response was shattering the man's arm at the elbow and pushing them both away from the edge.

"Arrggh!" Griston screamed.

Holding the broken arm in place, he unleashed a torrent of sickening to Griston’s head and body with his right hand. Each blow draining the hunter of resolve until he finally collapsed down to his knees, struggling to breath. Rorik grit his teeth and slowly pulled the blade from himself. Grabbing almost gently onto Griston's shoulder, he looked into the red slit's of man's helmet and with an animalistic roar he landed a devastating upper-cut that sent the metal man flying back onto the roof, where he finally laid still.

Blood dripped from his wound and sweat poured down his face as he stumbled towards him. His adrenaline ebbed and his hands slowly shook as he ripped the attachments from Griston’s wrists and lifted the helmet from his head. If he'd looked up bounty hunter in the dictionary, he'd probably see Griston's face pictured next to it. Laying before him was a grizzled man, with a nose crooked from too many fistfights and dark, rough skin etched with scars. Sweat dripped down his short brown hair as he looked up at Rorik with pure hatred in his dead eyes.

“Finish me,” He spat slowly, his voice sounding completely different without the warbilizer modulating it. “You beat me. I can accept that.”

Rorik took deep breaths before responding, exhaustion evident in his raspy voice. “You’re a damn good fighter, I'm half-tempted to bite you and invite you to the club. But the folks back home probably wouldn't like that, plus you'd probably still want to kill me.”

"Bite me?" The bounty hunter shook his head. “I won't stop, if you spare me. I will come after you and Nat, I swear it.”

Rorik looked down at his feet, contemplating his next move as the wound in his chest finally completely healed. “I believe you,” And with sudden strength, he picked up the bounty hunter by his chest-plate and held him over the edge of the roof with one arm. But he hesitated and smiled as a thought came to mind. “But as a friend once said, you're just too good a time.”

Griston's eyes widened as Rorik plunged a claw into one eye and a scream of absolute agony escaped his lips. Then he stabbed into his jet-booster and sent him hurtling into the sky. Leaving a series of sparks and the scent of dripping fuel in his fiery wake. His screams gradually dissipated as he soared up and down erratically and eventually out of sight.

He knew he might come to regret that, but the thought of rematch had been too tempting. Barring another war with the vamps, fights like that didn't come everyday.

With aching muscles and a weary mind, Rorik collapsed onto the rough surface of the roof, his eyes scanning every inch of the spaceport once more. But as he watched, his heart sank as two of Griston's goons raced towards him with a vengeance. The thought of jumping off the roof and taking his chances crossed his mind, because he had little strength left to fight.

Suddenly, a small starship appeared in the sky, seemingly emerging from the blinding blue sun itself. Its mounted turrets blazed with fiery destruction, engulfing the hunters in subsequent, viridian green explosions of fuel and body parts. As the ship whipped around, it expertly maneuvered towards the edge of the roof, where a landing ramp dropped with a thud at the lip. Starting towards it happily, he stopped and grabbed Griston's helmet as a souvenir.

“Come on!” Kara shouted, his spirit reinvigorated by her very voice.

Greeted by the dark red and rather spartan interior when he rushed aboard, Rorik quickly sat down next to her at one of the two pilot seats occupying the small cockpit, positioned side by side under the angled glass of the forward viewport. “You’re a sight for sore eyes.”

Kara ripped the ship towards the sky and pushed the engines to the max, sending them hurtling towards the clouds. “I bet. Where’s Griston, dead I hope?”

“Oh...he had to catch a flight.” Rorik said, almost sounding sleepy as he sat the helmet on the center console.

“What?”

“Me and him…we didn’t see eye to eye.”

“Are…are you dropping one liners right now?”

They broke the thermosphere to the sound of multiple warnings from the spaceport and city security ships shouting at them over the comm. The blue of the atmosphere was quickly being replaced by the black of space. Rorik worked the control panel in front of him, tracing the route from Arcturus to Ginos-Eles before estimating a rendezvous location they could convene at. “I’m leaving a series of encrypted messages at the beacon. So the Gizotso knows we’ve gone and knows where to find us. Put in these coordinates.”

Kara glanced at him. “Dude, this is a stolen ship that just broke probably every law they've got involving starship launch. They’ll flag and unencrypt that shit and then know right where we are.”

“Let them come, the Gizotso's probably more than a match for any security vessels they've got. I’m tired, beaten to shit, and I can’t believe I’m saying it…but I can’t wait to crawl back into my lumpy bed on that sad excuse for a starship.”