Drifter

Gami pulled up on the yoke. Her ship screamed out of the churning sky. In the cramped cockpit she flicked switches and looked at readouts. Nothing she did stopped the craft’s rapid descent. The instruments told horror stories using a combination of loud sounds and flashing lights.

Below her, the landscape could only be viewed in brief glimpses through thick mists. Despite the fact that it was daytime, not much could be seen. What was visible looked desolate, nothing but deep mud and harsh rock.

Gami managed to straighten the ship out just as it struck the surface. She hit her head on the control panel in front of her, the face plate of her helmet shattering a display. The craft slid along a field of mud, churning up sludge and stones. The warning alarms somehow got more numerous and forceful.

A wing clipped a boulder. Past the daze of the injury, Gami saw on the damage readout that it showed as having been completely ripped off. The power went out, plunging the cockpit into total darkness and absolute silence. The alarms were suddenly muted, as if they were animals in a forest that caught wind of a predator.

The ship finally skidded to a halt. The heavy rain beat down on the stricken craft. It sank a bit before stopping. Gami pulled her helmet off, examined the damage that had been done to it.

Her skin was pale white. A trickle of half-dried blood ran down the length of her pallid forehead, running past one of her eyes, dark red against the white. These were artificial, white with a small black pupil, a red circle around it. A pattern of thin black lines formed around this circle when she zoomed in to check the damage to the helmet. With these, the darkness was cast away, replaced by green static, but at least it was better than nothing.

Her face was that of someone well into their youth, still young, but the years had just started to show themselves. If one could manage to look past her comely features, they would notice that her nose was a bit on the pointy side. Her long black hair was kept in place by a pair of silver clips.

On the right side of her neck there was a silver aperture. Just behind that there was another implant, a rectangle made of polished black metal.

Under her left eye there was a tattoo, the ancient letter that was used to represent the Bayhi system of martial arts. Rendered in traditional calligraphy, it was small but detailed.

The bounty hunter tossed the helmet away, as the optics had been badly damaged. She gazed into one of the dead screens, tried a few of the controls. Nothing happened. It didn’t take long for her to decide that the craft wouldn’t be able to take off without major repairs.

Gami exited the crashed vessel. The sun was weak through the clouds and mists. She could just make out the gas giant on the horizon. The rain slapped against her armor and quickly soaked her hair. The blood that had gotten on her during the fight in the casino washed away.

She walked around the ship, assessing the damage. The rain lightened up, turning into a drizzle. Strands of dark hair stuck to her neck and the shoulder plates of her suit.

Now that she had a view of the exterior, she understood that it was far worse than she had thought. It was unlikely that the ship would ever fly again. Even when the stealth system and advanced weapons package was taken into consideration, it still wouldn’t be worth the cost of trying to salvage it. But at least she was alive.

She eyed her surroundings again. She couldn’t make out anything through the mist and rain. For all she knew, there could be a settlement nearby, but she doubted it.

Gami trudged to the compartment that held her motorcycle. After several minutes of fighting with it, she managed to pry it open enough that she was able to pull the bike out. The tires immediately sank into the mud. She let out a sigh.

Lights above her, managing to pierce the haze. She started to activate her cloaking device, remembered that she didn’t have her helmet. She started heading toward the hatch, considering which weapons she should retrieve from the ship’s small, but well stocked arms room. The muck slowed her. The sound of the approaching ship drowned out the rain.

She looked up, saw that it was the Earthling’s Apogee class. He sat the ship down nearby, boarding ramp facing toward her downed craft. She turned to face the ship, wondering if he had come to kill her. If so, why hadn’t he blasted her to pieces with his ship’s guns?

After almost a minute, the ramp came down. The human walked down it, fat drops of water splashing off of a rain slicker. The only weapon she could see was that weird pistol on his hip.

“Come on,” he said, “Let’s get everything that we can salvage aboard. We don’t have much time.”

“What do you mean? Is a storm coming?”

“No. He’s taking Aydem to the Hauk cartel. They have a smuggling base on Aachen.”

“How do you know there’s a base there?”

“I know,” he said dismissively, “Come on, we have to hurry if we are going to catch up to them.”

“You want me to join you?”

“Why not? Your ship’s out of commission. Fifty fifty split. We’re both planning to turn him into the Ujitans. And besides, two guns are always better than one.”

She looked at the horizon, at the massive planet. Then she looked back at the wreck of her ship. Returning her gaze to Eli she looked into his hard, unhinged eyes, “Let’s work on the armory first. I’ve got a lot of good stuff in there.”