Once the temperature inside the Sabre's cockpit finally dipped near the freezing point of water, Katashi decided they'd waited long enough. "Okay...time to get going again. Ren, are you ready? No telling what we'll see when we power everything back up."
She yawned and cracked her knuckles before replying. "Yeah. Fire it up."
He did so with the flip of a switch and the pressing of a few buttons. "Nothing seems the worse for wear...see anything?"
"Nope. Not on short-range, long-range, or emissions other than a patrol a few hours ago. I think this is as good as it's gonna get...time to make a break for it." After the hectic flight from enemies and unknowns in Gallia, the final departure was a bit anticlimactic...but life often is, rarely providing the dramatic ramp-up and climax humanity tends to crave. They whipped around the border station before it could decide if it should shoot them or not, and into the narrow mine-free channel. Same story after jumping - no interference. Reunion Station even bade them "safe travels" as they passed, either not recognizing or not caring about their Outcast IFF.
A pair of Scimitars met them outside the asteroids this time, and escorted them the rest of the way in. They were met by somebody different when they landed: a woman this time, who appeared to be in her mid-40s. Since she was on cardi, that likely meant 70s or 80s. She shrugged, smiled, and spoke in a slightly raspy voice. "Expecting Manuel? We thought you two'd died, you were out there so long...so he left. He'd been a day shy of rotating back to Malta when you arrived, you see. Oh!" she held out her hand to be shaken. "My name's Florinda."
They shook her hand in turn, still taken aback at how very different their new hostess' demeanor was than their previous one. "What about-" Katashi began - but before he could finish, Florinda cut him off with a gesture. Not for the first time, Ren wished she had a sidearm, enjoying being at the mercy of such potentially vicious strangers even less than Katashi.
Yet again, Florinda's words weren't what they'd expected. "You guys are exhausted and smelly. Here," she handed Katashi a scrap of paper with a few diagrams on it. "This'll help you get around...sorry, we're out of datapads at the moment. Anyway, your room is on floor 9, wing C...number 113. Spartan, but it's got a bed, shower, food, and cardi. Rest up, wash up, and meet me in the tertiary briefing room at 0900 hours sharp. Any questions?"
They stood in silence while a hangar crew swarmed over their Sabre, plugging in diagnostic wires and fuel hoses, while others removed damaged armor panels for repairs. "Why are you being so nice?" Ren blurted, immediately wishing she hadn't worded it in quite that way.
She needn't have been concerned; Florinda smiled in sympathy. "Just because some of us are vicious s.o.b.'s who'd kill you as soon as look at you doesn't mean we all are, my dear. And those of us that are vicious...aren't necessarily vicious all the time." Her expression suddenly hardened, and her eyes narrowed...and just as quickly went back to their sparkling normality. "So! We Maltese are just as diverse as any House. Imagine that!"
Katashi glanced over at Ren, and saw the doubt in her eyes. Turning back to their hostess, he asked the question Ren had been intending to ask in the first place. "I think what she meant is that you don't have any reason to trust us, beyond the word of a Lane Hacker and the contents of our gun cameras & sensors. So why the red carpet?"
"Red carpet?" Her jaw dropped in what appeared for all the world to be genuine surprise. "Just what kind of treatment are you used to? You just undertook a dangerous mission for us...yes, we knew where the hole was and wanted to see if you were able to find it yourselves, but the situation on the other side is volatile. There's never any telling what you'll find on the other side, so in that respect, the information you gathered is useful."
"We'll talk about that later," she continued, shaking her head. "The point is, I'll want to hear your full story tomorrow, both of your circumstances and the scouting you did today and yesterday. But for now, we need to analyze your sensor readings and camera footage. So, why shouldn't we give you even as much as the least among us receives? Since when's a basic room with one bed and one shower, plus a little food and cheap clothing, royal treatment?"
"We've had...something of a rough time."
"I gathered. Well, relax, for tonight at least. Off you go. Oh, and I heard Manuel said you could name the fighter...think about what you want to call it. Goodnight." Her tone brooked no further discussion, so the pair continued into the corridor beyond Florinda, leading into the heart of Kirkwall Base.
* * * * *
First order of business was to scarf something down - neither of them had any idea what the food that'd been left them was called, but it was mildly spicy and - seeing as neither of them'd had squat to eat in a day - delicious. Second order was to shower. It was a tiny glass stall and they were both filthy, so they went one at a time, sorely disappointing Katashi...though, given how bad I smelled before I got in, it's probably just as well.
Then, still exhausted but at least fed and clean, they plopped down on the bed next to each other and took care of the final order of business before sleep. Something that they felt they needed to do, in spite of their fatigue, and something that required the best efforts of them both...naming their fighter, of course! "We could do the 'ole adjective.noun again," Katashi suggested.
"That's way overdone."
"For a reason! How about..."
The discussion lasted for more than an hour. Eventually, they decided on Void.Spectre, after the hours they spent drifting in the powered-down Sabre...and because avoiding detection seemed like something they'd have to be doing for some time.
Florinda approved. "I've heard worse. Now, we've had time to analyze the data you returned, and this is the first time we've heard of any GRN fighter patrols so near the minefield...it could mean they're getting bolder, or it could mean nothing. Either way, it's new information, and the time you spent fighting them gives us a larger sample size for our engineers to analyze their technology.
As it turned out, the tertiary briefing room was little more than a cleaned-out storeroom barely five meters on each side, and with a screen hung against a wall. There was also a small desk in front of the screen for the briefer to sit at, and six chairs in front of the desk for everyone else. Uncushioned, of course - this was a room meant for the rapid discussion of dangerous business directly before its conduct, not for comfort.
Florinda folded her hands in front of her. Now, however...now, we have a real mission for you. We know roughly where the jump hole into Gallia from Omicron-80 is...but we know very little about what's on the other side. This is a real scouting mission: these Gallians are only two jumps from Alpha, and we need to know what they're up to. This means regular trips to the other side to have a look around.
This is routine; we send a small ship through that hole once every week or so, just to take a peek. For the most part, after we blew up their first wave of scouts, they've left us alone and not even ventured to the other side of the jump hole. But if you ARE intercepted...you're on your own. We think they don't know where Alpha is yet...and we have to keep it that way. You will not so much as jump back into Omicron-80, still less flee to Genoa, if you are being pursued in any fashion whatsoever. Understood?
They nodded.
Good. Rules of engagement are whatever. We've been blowing up their scouts, and they probably aren't happy about that, but we really don't know how they feel about us right now. They might hate us, they might still be confused as to who's who out here. Try not to kill anybody unless you have to...dead Gallians can't buy our cardi, and shooting will just alert them to your presence. Get in, scan some stuff, get out, but use your discretion. You can't bring back any info if you're dead. And like Manuel told you, do this, and you get to keep the Sabre for whatever you want to use it for...though we'll be understandably peeved if you use it against us. By which I mean we will hunt you down and dissemble you both into your component parts. Got all that?
Fly in, scan, keep the guns cool, fly out, and don't kill fellow cardi-breathers, Katashi answered. Got it.
Alright, then. In addition, I've gone over your written accounts of your, ah, 'encounter' with that Corsair...and we've got nothing on the guy. You're looking for a Corsair that you hauled to Fairbanks, but who was busted out by somebody-or-other, right? Of course, you're taking his word for that...he might just be yanking your chain, 'cuz we haven't heard of anybodyever breaking out or being broken out. All kinds of stories about those places. One-third true, one-third made up by Liberty to scare people, and one-third made up by people claiming to've been there to make themselves seem tougher.
Right," Katashi scowled deeply. "And he was flying a Titan at the time, and if he's to be believed, he's got a Praetorian now. No way to tell if he was truthful about that, either...we shot down a fair number of Corsairs in different types of ships, and for all we know he's got a cruiser command now. Damn...didn't even cross my mind he might be lying about all that. Crap. Back to square one.
Well. So. One way to find this guy might be to try to sneak into one of the most heavily-guarded systems in Sirius and get close enough to one of the highest-security prisons in known space to try to steal their secured and shielded data.
"Because it would be. But as they say, there's more than one way to flog a dog. Or whip a chicken. Or something. You'll want to talk to the Hackers about it, anyway...and ask around on Junker stations or something. This guy found you somehow...he'll have left a trail, even if it's just a trail of dead bodies."
Katashi and Ren looked at each other, both thinking of the Corsair's mention of Gallia.
Florinda, however, paid their looks no mind. "We have a base in Omicron-80, on which you have clearance to land, even before you go in, to refuel or whatever. Don't try to land on Malta until you're done with this mission, though...we don't let just anybody on our home world. Complete your task, return to Genoa - that's our base there - and then we'll see. You'll have the fighter, at least." She stood up, and held out her hand again. "Good luck to you both."
They shook her hand in turn, and left for the hangar. As usual, Ren didn't really relax until they were in space, at which point she spoke up for the first time since leaving their room that morning. "She's right, you know. We have no reason to believe anything that Corsair told us is true."
"Yeah...we'll have to find out how he discovered we were still alive, and when we were leaving Gallia...he knew right where to go to meet us, Ren. Exactly where to go. Not a whole lot of people knew that, so it shouldn't be hard to figure out who let it slip. I can't believe neither of us thought of that."
"I can."
"That's because you're contrarian."
"No, it's because I'm realistic. It's been...what? Three days? Four? You're still limping heavily, and it still hurts when I cough. We've had plenty of other stuff cluttering our minds. Anyway...who could've betrayed us?"
"Junkers," Katashi offered. "We landed on Lodeve early on, before we'd been told they're the Bad Guys in Gallia...and were lucky to get off the spaceport before they fully realized how clueless we were."
"No way. Junkers aren't like that, we don't do that. We're a family, and we look after each other."
"Maybe in Sirius, but it seems Gallic Junkers are a different bunch..."
Ren cut him off. "And you know this how? We never so much as talked to another Junker after that. We just took the Council's word for it."
"How can we be sure without investigating? We need to spend more than just a few hours in Gallia to puzzle this out. Can we at least agree on that much?"
For several moments, the only sound in the cockpit was the steady hum of the life-support systems, and the deeper thrum of the engines. "Fine. We'll see if we can get a freighter or something to spend more time there...but we're not landing. If he's got contacts in Gallia somehow, that might clue them in. We'd mostly be cruising through empty space, trying to listen in."
"Sounds good."
* * * * *
Surprisingly, the Genoa Base ship dealer had something available. It was a boxy, green thing...slightly smaller than the Spatial, but it had more interior space owing to the placement of its twin engines outboard, on the tips of the fat "wings". The wings held most of the freight space, while the fuselage was reserved for "clean" cargo and living quarters - plus an airlock. It was an X11, a civilian deep space exploration craft, also intended for docking-ringless atmospheric landings.
Not normally sold on Genoa, this specific craft had been left behind by a recon pilot who'd decided he'd rather be a fighter jock, and thus traded it for a Sabre. It wasn't very pretty, but it had the space, the accommodations were cramped but perfectly adequate, it had the equipment, the capabilities...and it was the same price as their Sabre.
A few hectic hours later, their few possessions were loaded, their cannon and light arms were transferred, cardi was in the air scrubbers, and it was ready to go. After launch, they took a few experimental loops around the base, and some target practice on random pieces of flotsam. "We won't be doing any dogfighting, but it'll work," Katashi concluded. With that statement of overwhelming confidence, they engaged the cruise engines and set off toward the minefield.
Their first foray through met no resistance - other than the manic mine maze on the other side, which took them the better part of a day to navigate - so after delivering their report to Genoa, they loaded up on supplies and returned to Gallia. Cruising at random well off the plane (except when they took a jump hole to a different system), they evaded detection whilst listening to the various goings-on.
A week later, they were no closer to hunting down their target than before. The duplicity of the Junkers was beyond question now, though: messages intercepted and decoded with the X11's heavily modified onboard sensor suite - messages they couldn't have hoped to get with their old CSV - made it clear that the Council wasn't exaggerating in the least. Ren had been thoroughly sullen for a couple of days after a particularly incriminating series of transmissions. She still wouldn't admit that there might be a larger conspiracy involving Junkers throughout Sirius, but she did at least admit that it might not be the best idea to hang out at Junker bases until they knew more.
Unfortunately, after a week in deep space, the stockpiled supplies in the X11's hold were running low, and the ship itself was damaged from repeated encounters with GRN patrols. It wasn't easy finding the entrance to the minefield again, but find it they did. Navigating through a narrow tunnel where touching the walls meant near-certain death was harrowing enough in itself without the message they received via what was supposed to be a private channel.
The fruits of betrayal. The meat of deceit. The defiler's spice. You'll get your just desserts...unlike you both, I am an honorable man. My brothers say I am blind with madness; but I say madness is truest that is accompanied by diabolical vision, and justice is blind...therefore, you are mad, and I am justice made manifest. And justice always wins.
I am the Corsairs you killed in Omicron Delta. I am the Mollies you slew in Leeds. I am the Hessians you laid low in Omega-15. I have no name. I have no face. My life until now is nothing. I am a weapon of purpose, born of your own murderous rampage. I cannot take the life of every unrighteous fool that crosses my path...but I can take yours.
I am the ghost of all your misdeeds, come to claim what is rightfully mine; just as I have for thirty-two men and women over the course of my life. Meet me outside Islay. There, we will decide the issue, me and you. And don't think about going anywhere else.
I'm right behind you.
Your time is up.
Jaw slack in disbelief, Katashi got the cruise engines charging..."Incoming missile!" the computer warned, entirely too late. Ren didn't launch countermeasures quite fast enough - it was a train disruptor, made to slow the massive "train" type transports. It easily kept the little X11 from zipping ahead into the dubious safety of the depths of the minefield.
A Titan flew up alongside them, and wagged its wings. Across the local communications channel, an all-too-familiar voice came from the console. "Follow me, or I will destroy you." He fired a few shots across their bow to remind them of the fact - the salvo included the distinctive green of the JADE weapon he'd taken from them. Then the heavy fighter broke left, beckoning Katashi to follow.
Numbly, the pilot guided the shuttle after the Titan, and Ren forced her fingers away from the triggers. Honorable, my ass! He knows we don't stand a chance...even if this thing was undamaged, we're completely outmatched. He's freaking insane! Thinks he's a knight in shining armor, or an avenging angel, or something. Idiot. Their minds and hearts raced as their ship crawled after the Titan, out of the minefield and towards the Edinburgh system.
Ren pointedly kept the X11's three turrets pointed at the Titan at all times, though she didn't fire. "Katashi...?"
"If we see a chance to run, we take it. But as long as he sticks right behind us, there's not much we can do."
"You're just going to let him kill us?"
"No...but if we try to run now, he'll get us for sure. Keep an eye out, and be ready. If an opportunity comes, we'll only have seconds to act. If we pass the Freeport in Tau-29, we might be able to dock there - or even run to Baffin. An entire system that's a no-fire zone...it'd be a feeding frenzy on him if he violated it to get us."
He guided the battered shuttle through Gallia, keeping a close eye out for Council patrols he might be able to contact. The Corsair obviously knew their usual patrol paths, however, and kept them clear. This strategy worked all the way to the minefield to Orkney, when their console comm speaker came to life again.
"You will ignore all hails from the Council stations," their assailent ordered. "They won't like it, but they won't come after us. And if they do, I will destroy you before attacking the Council ships. Remain in cruise. If I think you're trying to contact the Council or delay our passage, I will kill you both."
* * * * *
Only a quarter-hour later, they were in Orkney, and Reunion was out of sensor range. But instead of guiding them toward the Tau-23 jump hole, the still-nameless Corsair ordered them "south", towards a point in space just beyond the range of the Outcast patrols from Kirkwall. A quartet of Gaian Eagles greeted them, and escorted them to an unmapped jump hole...the defenses on the other side were fairly impressive. Fully half a dozen weapons platforms, and more Eagles, all Gaian.
It wasn't a large system, however, and largely featureless. They passed a station in orbit above a lone planet, and soon reached another jumphole, also guarded by weapons platforms. After the jump, their nav computer finally recognized the surrounding space: they were in Edinburgh. Katashi and Ren both suited up, beginning to think it would be for the last time. The Eagles broke off, and it was just the Titan and the X11.
A short cruise brought them to the blue ice cloud that contained Islay Base, where the Corsair ordered them to cut their engines. "This is it," he informed them. "This is were justice will be done. This ice would freeze the blood in your veins, but today, it will wash the blood from my hands, for your deaths are well-deserved. Because I am honorable, I will give you exactly one minute to make peace with whatever heathen gods you worship." Pilot and gunner looked at each other through their suit helmets, and held the hand of the other. There were no words for this situation, which was just as well, because none were needed.
They'd sat in silence for only fifteen seconds when the Titan in front of them was rocked by a torpedo detonation that drained its shields. "What treachery is this?" the Corsair roared over the local channel as he went to full throttle, pitching and yawing to find what'd shot at him.
He was answered by a voice the pair in the X11 remembered from that awful day in Islay. "You tricked me, you thieving, murderous bastard!" A lone Falcon heavy fighter flashed past the Titan, photon cannons firing wildly. Over a private channel, she urged Katashi and Ren: "RUN! Tau-31 hole to the west - I'll keep him busy!"
Due to the torpedo hit that drained his shields, the Corsair couldn't ignore the fighter as he'd told Katashi he would. As their cruise engines charged, the only disruptor shot he got off hit an asteroid instead - the X11 got away clean as the Falcon and Titan made passes at each other in the blue rocks just out of sensor range from Islay. Once in Tau-31, they laid in a course for the Tau-29 jump gate, and the safety of Freeport 6.
Flashes of light lit up the little bridge of the X11 as they slipped through the icy rocks in Tau-31...and what had been acceptance of the inevitable quickly changed into something else. "I am so freaking sick of running away...and now I wish we had a torp instead of the cruise disrupter. Damn. If we'd had the torp, we might've stood a chance. We could've helped that Gaian, and-"
He was interrupted by an urgent voice on their private communications channel...it was "that Gaian"...and she did not sound like a happy camper. "He got me! Some of my 'friends' who wouldn't help me fight at least kept him away from my pod, but he's coming after you now. Just keep going to the Freeport...even that psycho wouldn't dare touch you there. I'll contact you later and we'll figure something out. This is NOT the end of this."
The link was cut before either of them could reply, and Katashi glared at the asteroids. "Yeah. That's great. I say we go to Cali instead, try to re-arm and rally some support, and go hunting. What do you think, Ren?"
She was silent for a moment, to the point that the pilot began to wonder if she'd even heard him. But when he turned to look at her, the disturbing smile plastered on her face put that wonder from his mind. "I think not," she answered. "I've got a better idea...keep heading to the Freeport, and hoof it on the other side. We'll need to use every second of our head start, but if we can pull this off-"
* * * * *
The battered old Titan creaked and groaned as the insane Corsair jumped into Tau-29, hot on the heels of his prey. A few of the consoles in the fighter's cockpit had been replaced with generic civilian models, as the pilot no longer had access to proper Corsair technology...assassinating numerous allies tended to do bad things to one's personal diplomacy. The others were so worn from use that their displays could barely be read, and regularly flickered on and off. The original seat had long since worn out, and had been replaced by a seat he'd stolen from a Zoner transport he'd disabled in Omega-49. The viewscreen was so heavily scratched that it was nearly opaque in places, and it had even been patched a few times.
About the only parts of the ship that still worked properly were her sensors, her guns, and her power core. The latter had escaped damage and failure through thorough maintenance and a good deal of luck. The former had to be replaced regularly, and the guns were often switched out and upgraded as well. And they were sometimes blown off...the port wingtip was now missing, for instance.
It hadn't been missing until a half hour before, though. The Corsair mumbled a hideous curse at the Gaian fighter that'd blown it off, vowing to hunt her down once the two Kusari were dead. He'd kept his ship mostly intact for well over a decade, and was loathe to replace it with an inferior non-Corsair model, no matter how many pieces of it he had to give up. Besides which, the battered old fighter was a mirror image of himself. Scarred and beaten, but still vicious, still with fire in its veins, still ever-ready to strike.
He was about to go through a longer list of similarities, but his train of thought was thoroughly derailed by the sight that greeted him once the jump was completed. There were those two damnable Kusari in their stupid, fat X11...and a Virage-class Zoner-built very heavy fighter. A quick scan revealed that it was easily the match of his own ship, particularly in its damaged condition...and that it was registered as an independent mercenary vessel.
"There he is!" It was Katashi's voice over the local comms. "He's the one that hacked the BHG's bounty boards not long ago. Two million credits for his escape pod. We'll assist you...that part's free."
"I'd be lying if I said I didn't like killing a Corsair, but I'll take the money, too." This was a stranger's voice, apparently from the Virage, and with a strange accent that was difficult to place in any specific house. "'Sair: today's not your day, bud. You can eject and save me the trouble, or fight. I don't care."
The renegade Corsair didn't need to think very hard about that. Without so much as a word, he engaged his thruster and opened fire on the X11. It immediately thrusted in response, its pilot obviously anticipating the move, and the Corsair overshot his target without downing its shields.
"Wrong move. Predictable, though." A woman's voice, this time: Ren. "Good. I'd hate to be denied the pleasure of watching you squirm." The X11's aft turrets - the high-end tachyon type - opened fire as it came around in an attempt to bring its six forward Krakens to bear on the wounded Titan. Meanwhile, the Virage's minirazor had missed. Its first gun salvos, however, did not.
While the Titan could easily dodge the X11's fire if taken on its own, it was more difficult to maintain a firing angle when he was also trying to keep moving quickly enough to keep the merc from landing a mini. When the second mini the merc fired took down what was left of his shields, the Corsair was forced to make an unhappy decision. I'd be dead before I could take down the shuttle...I'll have to kill the mercenary first. I have enough disruptors left, and here there are no rocks to make it miss.
* * * * *
It was precisely the wrong decision. The Virage pilot had fought Titans before, and was quite familiar with their preferred tactic of "jousting", using their VHF's superior armor and powerplant to their advantage. That was one of the reasons he flew the fighter that he did; with the agile Virage, he was able to deny the Corsair his favored method of attack, and force him into a turning battle he couldn't win. With the added firepower of the X11's Kraken 1's, the Corsair's first mistake was the last he would make as a fighter pilot. With the sort of poetic justice only random chance could provide, it was a Kraken salvo that finally breached the Titan's heavily-armored power core. The aged craft's escape pod still worked, sealing the Corsair in a protective cocoon as his fighter disintegrated around him. There were smiles in the X11's bridge, but it wasn't over yet.
"Thanks for the assist, Void Spectre. Made it even easier, and I'm never against easy money."
"Anytime," Katashi replied. "Transferring the payment now."
There were a few seconds of silence before the Virage's pilot answered. "Got it. Thanks! Gotta be the easiest bounty I've ever collected. Say, uh...what're you guys gonna do with him?"
"He won't ever make port again, let's put it that way."
"Ah. It's personal, then. I see. Well, I won't keep ya. Lemme know if you ever need another job done...pleasure doing business."
"Likewise. Take care."
Ren had already beamed the contents of the Titan's hold aboard, putting the goodies in the hold and the pod in the airlock. She glanced over at Katashi, who simply nodded. He pulled an antique weapon from a large satchel hanging off his shoulder. It was an ancient projectile weapon, known more commonly as a revolver, and had been a gift from an anachronistic Zoner a couple of years ago. It was well-known for many things, not least of which was its service in the hands of vigilante lawmen millenia ago.
Katashi didn't know if it was a real relic, or just a replica, but he didn't care. All he cared about was that it serve its purpose; and it seemed an appropriate tool for the job. He nodded back to Ren, and while the autopilot engaged the cruise engines toward the Freeport, the pair entered the X11's small airlock just aft of the living area. The Corsair escape pod took up fully half of the airlock, but that too didn't matter. There was enough space for Ren to reach its access panel, and convince it to open a little...then freeze. It wasn't open enough that the Corsair could get out, or even reach his arms to the opening, but it was open enough for him to see them clearly, and for them to see him. There was no mistaking it: this was the same man that'd changed their lives forever.
"Hi," Katashi began. "Now, how does this go? Ren, gimme some pointers." He glared down at the shocked pilot, helpless in his pod, arms crossed over his chest.
"I think you're supposed to lock him in here and haul him to the Freeport, then turn him over to bounty hunters or something. Or take him to Malta to be a slave...that's my personal favorite."
"Pfft. You can do nothing to me," the Corsair taunted. "I have suffered more than anything you could do to me."
"Yeah. Of course, this is the part where I say that no, you haven't, and that you'll have to suffer an inhumanly long lifespan harvesting Cardi from the fields of Malta, or a much shorter life in the captivity of the bounty hunters. But I've got something else to say."
He raised the revolver, centering its primitive sights squarely on his former foe's forehead and raising a querying eyebrow. "Like this? Not like those stupid holodramas where they let the villain live because to kill him would be to become like him. I always thought that was a load of crap. Oh!" he added, as if he'd forgotten something important. Finally, the Corsair realized what was coming, and recognized his own words mixed with the pilot's. At last, his eyes widened with fear he'd not known in far too long as Katashi thumbed back the revolver's hammer. "And you're about to get shot. Have a good day - I know I am."
Without further ado, he pulled the trigger. The old revolver's hammer fell on the firing pin of a bullet. The pistol barked, a deafening sound in the confined space of the airlock. The bullet fell on the Corsair's face. And the Corsair's face fell all over the inside of the escape pod from the force of the heavy pistol round's impact.
The roar subsided, and the dead pirate fell limp inside his pod. Judging from the rather large hole in his head, he wouldn't be bothering anybody ever again. Katashi put the pistol away, let out the breath he hadn't realized he was holding, and wiped a bit of blood off his face with the arm of his suit. "Ren...does it make me a bad person if that felt damn good?"
"No. He wasn't prey...he was a predator. A hunter, but not like us. He didn't choose his targets using anything we'd call rational thought. Even if he hadn't come after us, he needed to die," she answered. "And besides," she added, holding up a large knife she'd been hiding behind her back. "I was going to use this on him if you didn't shoot him. Now let's get out of here, pop him out of the airlock, and blow up his pod just to be sure."