“So,” I attempted to cut the tension, “What is our first stop?”

  The others turned to me, the worry still plastered on their faces.

  “The longer we wait the worse that screen will look, so come on! What do we need to do first?” I directed my question towards Lance, since everything was dependant on him being able to fly us out of here.

  He bit his bottom lip, his eyes staring into space as he thought, “We have enough people to go FTL… Guy at planet traffic owes me a favour so we can at least leave without an issue… The FTL highways may cause a problem if we leave too hot but there are enough in this system that we could wait out the worst of the heat and use a junction that doesn’t have our ident saved…”

  “Fuel?” Inim asked as Lance obviously struggled to continue the list.

  He paused.

  “Shit. Yeah. Yeah, we need fuel.” He crossed his arms and leant back, his face contorting slightly “Ah shit, that’s gonna be difficult.”

  “How hard is it to get?” I asked, already ready to volunteer myself with the duty of obtaining it.

  He winced and rubbed his eyes, “Really, annoyingly difficult. None of us here can afford it from the official market, no offence,”

  “None taken.” Mark smiled, Inim snorted.

  “Getting it off the streets instead either means dealing with people who’d wanna cash in on your bounty, or getting a bad batch. I don’t like either option.”

  I noticed a new man enter the bar, he went straight for the counter and ordered something, a regular, assumedly, though I remained cautious as he definitely would have noticed the sign outside, people in the establishment seemed largely uninterested in the bounty aside from small talk, I didn’t yet know if that was the case with him. Though he already seemed invested in the drink that was quickly served to him.

  “I’ll run security then, far enough away where they won’t get a look at my face.” I offered, pulling my eyes away from the newcomer.

  “No,” Lance shook his head dismissively, then raised his eyebrows as he gave it a second thought, “Actually…”

  “Inim, do you remember Hoss?” He asked with a mischievous grin.

  Her eyes widened, “Nope, do not go to him.”

  He shrugged, “It’s either him or the Pier-men, I’d rather have a bullet through the gut than a harpoon. You don’t have to come along if you don’t want to.” He finished with a lighthearted chuckle.

  Inim glanced at me, her expression steeled, “No, I will join.”

  “Who’s Hoss?” I interrupted.

  “He’s mean, runs one of the bigger gangs in this sector.” Mark answered instead, his expression unusually unreadable.

  “Hey there old man, didn’t expect you to know someone like that.” Lance commented with a grin.

  “I don’t,” He affirmed, “I sheltered a few who were escaping his clutch, I only know what kind of a man he is.”

  Lance sighed, “Well yes, he is a complete nob, but he also has a huge supply of compact fuel rods, which I know he sells for a good price. Hoss is our best bet.”

  “What about those Pier-men?” I asked.

  “Oh, forget it,” He laughed, “They really hate me. Even though they stabbed me in the back first. Hoss is our best bet if we wanna get further than a Junction, and we will want to.”

  As we were in agreement, I was pushed further into the booth as a man sat down with us. My heart skipped with the contact, adrenaline already pounding my heart in my head, I waited for an ugly touch that never came.

  The man who sat down was who I saw earlier entering the bar, his drink was almost full and had been left on the counter, he studied us all with a slight smile, his eyes burning into everyone as he committed our faces to memory. He was a very broad man, but not an incredibly tall one, he had a large nose and a sharp jaw, his short but thick beard was spotted with grey patches. Now he was close I noticed his attire, it was armoured, a mixture of thick fabric and some kind of metal polymer composite plating that was dotted around his vital organs and limbs, his right shoulder had evidence of a wound, the fabric was torn and darkened from stained blood.

  “Alright folks?” He asked with an obviously fake friendliness, his voice unnaturally cheery “Mind if I join you?”

  I felt something hard press against my hip, I didn’t need to look down to know that the barrel of a gun was currently aimed at my gut.

  “Not bad, you?” I returned his energy, in an attempt to throw him off.

  He laughed for a split second, seemingly unmoved by the attempt. “Been better, been better… Listen, I need you to come take a walk with me out to my car, you folks don’t mind if I borrow her for a bit do you?”

  I didn’t need to hear their answers to know what it would be. I knew they would do nothing. Lance had barely changed expression, it occurred to me that he had previously fallen asleep in a bar, and was likely far from sober, it was likely he was still processing that he could hear another voice. Inim was clenching her fists, but was looking intently at where he was holding his weapon against me, she was not going to challenge that. And Mark… I couldn’t read, again. There was something about him that consistently threw me off, but I knew that right then, he wouldn’t do anything.

  Stolen from its original source, this story is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.

  So I was left to try and find an opportunity myself, I had a feeling that if this guy got me away from the others, my freedom would have been nothing but a weekend getaway. I wouldn’t let it happen. But I would need to find a better opportunity, I didn’t want to be shot in the stomach again, and I had doubts the gun against me would be as weak and poorly maintained as the last one, but I would have to figure out something soon. My best chance would be to move when the barrel was pointed elsewhere. I could tell he still viewed me as a non-threat, his stance was casual, but not purposefully, he was relaxed, calm, vulnerable. He, like everyone who used their power against me, thought me meek, and easy prey. But this predator had already been wounded, and this prey had teeth.

  When nobody answered his question, he tapped me with the end of his gun, “Come on.”

  He stood up first, I followed quietly, my hands reaching into my pockets, my hand wrapping around the blade of Mark’s kitchen knife. Thank you Knox you beautiful creature.

  “We are just free to go?” Mark asked, surprising both me and the man.

  “Depends,” he mused, “You have a bounty?”

  “No, but after I shoot you with the gun I have pointed at your nuts I might.”

  My heart stopped, Mark was armed? I couldn’t see his hands but they were holding at least something under the table.

  The man scoffed, “You really think I’d fall for a trick like that? I know you aren’t armed, Everhart, letting you live is payment for making this easy, I could always refund you.”

  For a split second, Mark made eye contact with me, and I quickly noticed why.

  The man wasn’t pointing the gun at me, he was pointing it at him.

  He knew I was looking for a moment, and he had given me one, and put himself in the firing line doing it.

  I held back a vocal expression of shock, I would never have expected that from a man so apparently spineless, someone else thought.

  Nope. Stop drifting. Don’t blow your chance.

  I looked to my target again, his gun held loosely at his hip. Then I glanced at his shoulder, his dark skin peeked through the ragged hole, I saw fresh stitches, begging to be cut free, to re-open his wound to the cold air surrounding us.

  With one motion I removed the knife from my coat pocket, my thumb on the end of the handle in a reverse grip, with another movement, I swung it to my target, he wasn’t as tall as some, so I didn’t have to do much to reach his weak spot. The bottom of my closed fist slammed against his shoulder, the blade driven deep, but to my horror, he barely moved.

  He did stumble slightly though, though I saw him begin to raise his gun, not good. I attempted to wrestle the gun from his grip, but it was futile, as much as underestimation can carry me far, I had wasted it all on the stab. The man barged his shoulder into me, instantly grounding me. Then he pointed the gun.

  I could see down the barrel, this was it.

  What a waste.

  A shape barged into him, Inim, her giant stature sending him sprawling across the room. The gun fired, I saw it hit the ceiling, the sound shook me to my core, a supersonic crack that echoed inside my own skull before it even reverberated from the steel walls of the bar. Shaking off the disorientation, I saw what had become of the other patrons, every single one had taken cover behind their tables, none looked brave enough, or sober enough, to take advantage of the situation. That was nice at least.

  I was being helped to my feet, it was Mark, he was pale, sweat already collecting on his brow. Inim had finished wrestling with the man, she had gotten a hold of his gun, and was unconfidently pointing it at him. Lance had stumbled out of the booth annoyingly casually, he spent a moment finding his balance, before he made for the door, beckoning us over with a hand. I saw his lips move, but I couldn’t hear what he was saying. It quickly came to my attention that Mark was also talking, though his words were just as inaudible.

  It took me a second to pull myself together, I blinked hard, I was losing grip, I couldn’t lose it now, let me get somewhere safe first.

  Mark led me towards the door, Inim followed with her back to us, pointing the gun at the man on the floor, his hands still raised, why didn’t she just shoot him? He obviously wouldn’t stop now, it would save a lot of trouble if she just pulled the trigger.

  My hearing began returning to me with a popping noise, I could hear Lance encouraging us.

  “Quick! I can Hotwire this shitbox easy, we can’t stick around long!”

  There was only one vehicle outside, four doors with a steering wheel in the front compartment, like an upsized cargo hauler, or a downsized, wheeled lifeboat. Lance broke the window with his padded elbow, reaching in to open the door from the outside. He opened the back doors for me and Mark, Inim hopped in the second front seat.

  “Go go!” She ordered with an almost maniacal giggle.

  As I felt an engine rumble to life, and the wheels began to move, Inim turned back around at me, “You are one crazy lady! Good aim with that blade!”

  “Thanks for the assist yourself.” I acknowledged sincerely.

  She laughed nervously. “For a man that wide he fell pretty easy.”

  “Where are we going?” Mark cut in.

  “Ughhhhh, hold on…” Lance was looking frantically out the windows, his intoxication making his task of navigating obviously difficult.

  “I think… it’s this left turn, then it’s an almost straight shot to Hoss. Inim can you give him a call? I have a number for ‘desperate circumstances’. I hope he meant it would help me out of one when he gave it to me.”

  Inim sighed, “You know this is not going to go well, don’t you?”

  “Of course it will! Probably!… Fuck. Why couldn’t’ve you guys asked me to do this shit when I was sober?”

  Fuck.

  Yaram didn’t bother cursing out loud, even though the empty street had no-one to hear his moment of weakness, he never did vocally express himself when he was legitimately angry.

  How had he been so stupid to allow himself to both underestimate a target, and leave himself wide open to them? She had been so small, smaller than he expected, and her companions consisted of one of the largest women he had ever seen, a man who was clearly armed (though likely too inebriated to hit anything), and a man with the largest balls this side of Alpha Centauri.

  There was no scenario where she should’ve presented the biggest threat. And yet, she was the fucker that stabbed him, giving her allies a chance to catch him even more off guard.

  They took my fucking gun, I loved that gun, that gun is older than all of them, it has seen more death than a fucking rebellion automaton. The bitch who took it didn’t even hold it correctly. And they took the fucking car. Of-fucking-course. I didn’t even set up the fucking Nabidae yet, I was so excited to use that.

  At least it had a tracker so he didn’t have to play detective anymore. This incident was now the second time he had been foiled because of some bullshit he hadn’t expected, nor should’ve expected. Yaram had performed countless jobs, most for very high paying clients against well protected targets. Very few had had this many surprises. Granted, many had gone worse, but they had all gone worse in ways he had accounted for. Not here though, here it was just one thing after another. He winced as he held his hand up to his new shoulder injury.

  Time to break out the good shit I suppose.

  He reached down to his boot, pulling out a thin syringe containing a clear fluid. Gently, he stuck it into the flesh of his shoulder and pushed on the plunger. He shivered as he felt the solution course through his veins, grunting as the pain flared around his torn flesh. Within the hour, he would be like new, even enhanced, but the moment he had to rest, he would be out like a light for the next standard cycle. The next few hours of conciousness he had left, he would have to use wisely.