Now Available: Gender Rolls

My latest book is now available on the Kindle Store. Only 99 cents!

Gender Rolls is a collection of short stories with transgender protagonists. The tales span a variety of genres, from sci-fi to fantasy to superhero.

This anthology includes the following short stories:

Session Zero – A woman rolls up her life on a character sheet.

The Opposite of Magic – Transported to a magical realm, a woman discovers a disturbing connection between the two worlds.

Power Play – Two students develop super powers, but will they use them for good or evil?

Bubbles – A young scientist goes on the run to escape those who would steal her invention.

Consequences – A magical author begs for forgiveness after spreading disinformation that causes a riot.

Jealousy – A man has an epiphany while clothes shopping with his wife.

Meanwhile – In the aftermath of a major disaster, a catlike woman has to escape a war-torn slum.

Midnight Snack – A vampire traps a potential victim and presents them with a choice.

True Faces – Two aliens bond over an unlikely set of circumstances.

Reality Check – Two people visit the restroom for very different reasons.

Quarantine – A friendship is tested when a pair are forced to remain indoors during a global outbreak.

Legal Battle – Sometime in the future, law has become a contact sport.

The Loner – The coming-out story of a transgender bounty hunter.

Game Face – A tabletop gamer comes to terms with his gender issues.

Title Reveal: Gender Rolls

My third collection of short stories will be titled "Gender Rolls," and it should be out in about six months. Expect somewhere between eight and twelve short stories that relate to gender in some way.

Now Available: Rainbow Nightmares

My latest book is now available on the Kindle Store. Only 99 cents!

Rainbow Nightmares is a collection of 13 short stories featuring LGBTQ+ protagonists. The stories span genres such as horror, sci-fi, post-apocalyptic, and superhero.

Short stories included in the anthology:
Escapism – Four people get trapped in a never-ending escape room.
Survivors – After a mysterious apocalypse, a woman searches for other survivors.
Third Shift – An office worker discovers that their workplace is still occupied after hours.
Forever Home – A kitten must defend her new home from a fearsome spirit.
Dixieland – Tiny flying creatures swarm across the globe, leaving few alive.
Telethon – A supervillain tortures his arch enemy on live TV.
Social Cues – A woman’s inability to relate to others may be the key to saving the world.
Ray’s Personal Blog – Odd things begin happening after a man starts rereading his childhood comic books.
Traveler – A dimension-hopping, body-swapping traveler has to stay inconspicuous in their new surroundings.
Justice – A superhero and a villain face off in a museum.
Mutiny – After a breakout aboard a prison ship, a former prisoner attempts to keep control of the vessel.
The Preservers – As the Earth burns in fire, a race of aliens rescue a portion of the human population.
Salvage – A cleanup crew must explore an abandoned spacecraft. But is it as empty as it seems?

Now Available: Geek Cutes

My latest book is now available on Amazon and Other E-Retailers. Only 99 cents!

Geek Cutes is a collection of eight light-hearted short stories, spanning a variety of genres, with a focus on lesbians and trans women.

Stories included in this anthology:
Dungeon Therapy: Two women meet over an online tabletop RPG.
Gilded Cage: A young tech expert is locked in her room by her homophobic parents.
Mother's Day: A cop teams up with an occult expert to track down an otherworldly monster.
Fairy Dust: In a war between fairies and dragons, one pixie must embrace her destiny.
Hero Worship: A woman goes on a blind date with a superhero, but is it safer to stay single?
Think Tank: A team of scholars struggle to break a divine code, racing against the most serious of all deadlines.
Strangers in the Void: When the power goes out on a space station, two strangers work together to find the cause.
Vigilante: In a neighborhood riddled with violent crime, a masked hero protects women from the local gangs.

Also, I'm pleased to announce my upcoming project, Rainbow Nightmares. It's going to be a collection of thirteen horror-themed short stories, focusing on LGBTQIA+ protagonists. I expect it to be finished in about three months.

Itropa Preview

 

Here is a short preview of my upcoming "Itropa" novel, which is set in the same universe as Bloodhunters. I think of it as a "fantasy world in a sci-fi universe." The following is excerpt is still from an early draft, so it may change a lot before release.

The Silkleaf Woods were alive with a cacophony of birdcalls and insect chirps. Thin rays of sunshine gleamed down from the canopy above, spattering the forest floor with intermittent droplets of light. The occasional fairy flitted by, carrying pollen from one feyflower to another. A gentle breeze passed through the wooded paths, rustling the fallen leaves.

An elflike young woman skipped between the trees, taking in the sweet smell of ciniblossoms that wafted through the air. Stopping to rest in a clearing, the moonfolk removed her backpack and rummaged through it for a woodapple she’d picked earlier. She was about to take a bite when her pointed ears perked up.

Something had changed. The chitterbugs had stopped keening, and Brynwyn felt like she was being watched. On the far side of the clearing, a mound of grass continued to sway in the breeze, even though the air had become still. Cautiously, Brynwyn dropped the fruit and reached for her bow. Birds continued to chirp in the distance, but Brynwyn could only hear her heartbeat pounding in her ears. Nocking an arrow, she carefully backed out of the clearing.

With a roar, the mound of grass came alive. The massive turfbear sprang from its hiding pit and bounded toward the young woman, its mouth open wide. Brynwyn fired an arrow, tumbled backward, and fired another. While both arrows hit true, the creature barely seemed to notice. Brynwyn turned and ran.

She could hear it behind her, mere meters away. The crunching of its footfalls against the crisp leaves, the rhythmic huffing of its breath. A million questions raced through her mind. Could turfbears climb trees? Could she make it up a tree before it got her? Wasn’t there a lake around here somewhere? Could turfbears swim? Would her parents find out how she died? Would they care?

Brynwyn attempted to veer left, but she saw one of the monster’s viny appendages out of the corner of her eye. She swerved right instead, then ran straight until she saw another leafy tentacle in her peripheral vision. Veering back to the left, she leaped over a dense patch of foliage between two trees, hoping they were too close together for the creature to follow. Too late, she realized she’d been herded.

She landed on her hands and knees in the turfbear’s pit, having run in a complete circle. She rolled over onto her back, and saw the monster towering over her. Standing on its hind legs, it was more than twice her height. The six-legged bear had grass-like fur over a brown undercoat. Two vinelike tentacles, protruding from the monster’s shoulders, reached toward the young woman. It glared at her with four yellow eyes, and opened its mouth wide, revealing teeth that looked like thick thorns.

Brynwyn fumbled through her side pouch, pulled out her energy pistol, and fired several shots. The monster recoiled as the blue bolts of light hit it in the chest. The weapon had been designed to stun, not kill, and the beast was so large that it took more than ten shots to bring it down. Brynwyn had to roll out of the way as the turfbear fell, to avoid getting trapped under its huge form.

The monstrous bear now lay unconscious, and Brynwyn climbed out of the pit. She retrieved her backpack from the clearing, pocketed her pistol, and skipped away, whistling a happy tune.

Excerpts: Editorial

The following is an excerpt from Bloodhunters v3: New Blood, Chapter 02.08. Some details might make more sense in context, and a couple of sentences have been altered to avoid spoilers.

ED.02508.06.13

Echo Sun Times – Online Edition

June 13, 2508

Editorials

Editor’s Note: We are pleased today to post a submission from our former head columnist Evan N’Paqua. Though he’s been retired for five years, he still finds the time to write the occasional piece. We consider ourselves very fortunate to be his favored outlet for posting his work.

Fourteen years ago, I sent a man to jail. His name was Enoch Tevarios Kline, and he was evil. Now understand that I was a journalist for forty-six years, and I always tried to keep my opinions neutral. I chose my words carefully, and I rarely let my personal feelings interfere with my columns. So when I tell you that Kline was evil, I don’t use the word lightly.

Kline was a local businessman and philanthropist. He was well respected by the community, and the last person anyone would have suspected of being a killer. When I was sent to interview him, it wasn’t to bring him down. It was a filler piece, part of a “community heroes” feature we were running at the time. I was there to ask him about his humanitarian programs, such as the scholarships he was awarding to disadvantaged high school students.

We held the interview in his home, in a book-filled study I envy to this day. It went well until I asked about his family. He told me the heartbreaking story of how his wife and children had been killed in an accident. But if I have one talent, it’s that I know a lie when I see one. Something about his story didn’t add up. It wasn’t much, but it was enough to wake my inner investigator.

I won’t go into the details of my investigative process, but you can read my original column from 2494 in the archives. This wasn’t your typical case of “businessman has wife murdered.” No, what I uncovered, and what was further discovered after his incarceration, showed a level of immorality I’ve never encountered before or since. His wife wasn’t just murdered. She was forced to fight a chetal, nude and unarmed, in an underground arena. His children suffered an even worse fate, victims of depraved acts that I’d prefer not to revisit in this article.

And it wasn’t just Kline’s own family. He bought and sold women and children like they were livestock, using his connections with the Inner Eye to manage a large network of disturbed clients. And he wasn’t just a trader. He often participated in arena events himself, performing absolutely monstrous acts of sexual violence against much weaker opponents, driven by the applause of his fans. And even that was only the tip of the iceberg, but I’ll stop retreading old ground.

The evidence I gathered during my investigation led to him receiving thirty-seven life sentences. I joked at the time that with good behavior, he would probably only serve half of that. I rested well for years, knowing that I’d helped to make the galaxy a slightly safer place.

On March 15th of this year, (SPOILERS for Bloodhunters v3: New Blood). Under threats of further destruction, the president of the United States of North America ordered the release of Kline, along with several other deeply disturbed criminals.

Did the president make the right call? Based on the information they had at the time, I’m not sure they had a choice. But it was later found out that (SPOILERS for Bloodhunters v3: New Blood). Some of the released criminals have already been recaptured, but some have disappeared into the winds.

The moment I heard that Kline had been released, I knew I was in danger. Fourteen years is a long time to hold a grudge, but Kline was just the sort of man to keep that level of hate alive. I’m sure I wasn’t the only one on his list, but I knew I had to be near the top. I took precautions. I hired two personal security agents to guard my house at night, and I started sleeping with a weapon at my side.

But I also knew my enemy. There was no precaution I could take that he wouldn’t anticipate. The only way I would ever be safe was to completely upend my life, changing my name and moving to another planet. I wasn’t going to do that. How much compromise is too much? Where is the line between living and surviving? Is life worth it if your life is no longer your own?

At my age, the choice was easy. I took precautions, and I would fight back if necessary. But I would be damned if I was going to spend my remaining years on the run from a sadistic psychopath.

I slept with one eye open for the first few weeks. But the mind can only stay in panic mode for so long, and eventually I settled back into my usual sleep routine. When Kline finally showed himself last night, I was sound asleep. He could have just ended it right there, not even bothering to wake me first. One pull of a trigger, or thrust of a blade, and the Echo Sun Times might have posted an entirely different article about me today.

But remember, we’re discussing a sadist. Kline received no joy from something as simple as murder. No, he had much bigger plans for me. I woke up choking, a metal cord wrapped around my neck. Before I knew what was happening, I was dragged out of my bed and down the hallway. He pulled me down the stairs, where my head thumped painfully on every step. Our final stop was my living room, where our audience consisted of two dead security guards, propped up on my couch, staring at us with glazed eyes.

  I’ll never know what his plans were for me, and to be honest, I’m thankful for that. The police later told me his bag was full of dental instruments, gardening tools, exotic weapons, and sex toys. But he never had a chance to use any of them on me. Because as I lay helpless on the floor, watching him reach into the bag, a mysterious woman stepped out of the shadows. Another late-night visitor had arrived.

Kline turned to confront this new arrival, and I strained to get a better view. It was a woman in black, dressed like a Hollywood ninja. She had crystal blue eyes and a red ponytail trailing from the base of her hood. She was armed with a shortsword, but there were more blades strapped to her belt.

Nothing I could write could do justice to the battle that followed. Kline pulled a curved blade out of his bag, and he attacked her without mercy. For several minutes the woman was on the defensive, blocking his attacks with no counterattacks of her own. At first I thought she was outmatched, if not by skill, then at least by ferocity. But I was wrong. She wasn’t threatened, she was gathering data.

When she finally decided to attack, she used what she had learned to deliver several quick wounds before disarming him. But the blade hadn’t been his only weapon. Panicked, he dove for his bag, and pulled out a serrated instrument that looked like it was designed to gut whales. He attacked again, only to lose his weapon once more a few seconds later.

No longer near his bag, he grabbed a poker from the fireplace. The woman could have stabbed him while his back was turned, but she held back. I’m almost positive I heard her stifle a laugh when she saw his weapon of choice. Nevertheless, their duel continued for quite a while, his iron poker against her shortsword.

By this time I had managed to loosen the cord around my neck, but I dared not move or interfere. I got the impression that the woman could have finished Kline at any time. She passed up several opportunities for an easy kill. Why was she holding back? Was she having fun with him?

But then it dawned on me. She was tiring him out, making sure he knew he was fighting for his life. She wanted him to feel as helpless as his victims had all those years ago. I don’t know where she got her seemingly endless supply of energy, but the longer they fought, the more I saw the despair creep into Kline’s face. He’d lost, he knew it, and every blow he blocked only prolonged the inevitable.

And yet the woman persisted, driving Kline into a corner, and then to the floor. She hammered on his fire poker until Kline no longer had the strength to hold onto it. “Please,” Kline begged, as he let the instrument clatter to the floor. He braced himself for the death blow, but it never came.

Instead, she pointed the sword at his chest, and spoke for the first time since her arrival. “Enoch Tevarios Kline. I am here to collect the reward for your capture. Will you come with me willingly, or would you like a rematch?” Without a word, Kline made a weak gesture of surrender.

There was fire in the woman’s eyes as she put the binders around his wrists. Her body shook with rage, and I realized that she was loathe to touch this disgusting man even to cuff him. Then I knew the truth. The reason she had treated the fight as a game, the reason she had allowed him to press the advantage for so long, the reason she had kept him blocking without going for the kill. It wasn’t just to tire him out, or to make him feel helpless.

She was being merciful.

She’d had to think of the fight as a game, because to do otherwise would have meant releasing her full anger. If she had allowed herself to fight with the fury in her soul, there wouldn’t have been enough pieces left of the man to return for a reward. There was a beast inside this woman, one that craved seeing Kline get the fate he deserved. Her detachment was for Kline’s protection, and to some extent, her own.

Once Kline was securely bound, she helped me off the floor. I looked at her face, at least the little bit of it not obscured by the mask. Her skin was flush, and there were tears in her eyes. It had taken every ounce of her strength to hold herself back, to stop herself from treating Kline the way he had treated his victims.

During my years on the staff of the Echo Sun Times, I found myself involved in many discussions about the ethics of bounty hunting. Do they break too many rules, or not enough? Are they more or less effective than law enforcement? I’ll admit that while I saw both sides of the issue at the time, I often came down in the camp that discouraged the practice. But last night my life was saved, not by the IGP or private security, but by a bounty hunter whose name I still don’t know. And she didn’t just save my life, but probably rescued me from a fate worse than death.

Fans of my columns know that I’m fond of the old expression, “The plural of anecdote isn’t data.” One or two positive experiences with bounty hunters doesn’t excuse the entire profession. I know better than to change my stance after a single event, especially so soon, when my emotions are still running high.

But I can tell you one thing. I will sleep well tonight.

Did you like what you just read? Consider purchasing the full e-book at one of these online retailers.

Now Available: Blood Samples

I've just released a new mini-book called Blood Samples. This is a collection of six short stories, all of which take place before the events of Bloodhunters v1: Bad Blood. 

You can get it from Amazon and several other e-book sites.

It's free on most platforms, so give it a read. You can also download it here: 

EPUB or PDF

If you like it, and want to know what happens next, check out the other books in the Bloodhunters series, which you can buy here:

Books by Xine Fury

Excerpts: Family

 

The following is an excerpt from Bloodhunters v3: New Blood, Chapter 01.06. Some of it might make more sense in context.

ED.02508.02.28

The statue of Princess Quora was the tallest landmark in Rarity City. The city had been so named due to the abundance of rare gems in its mines, though those mines had dried up years ago. That didn’t stop the tourists though, who paid big money for a chance to chip away at the rocks for an hour, hoping to get lucky where so many before them hadn’t.

Vex leaned over the railing of the giant left hand, on the narrow concrete path that traveled along the statue’s outstretched arms, running from fingertip to fingertip. Noisy tourists brushed past her, some glaring at her for standing still and blocking traffic. Vex didn’t care, her mission was more important than their vacation photos. Far below, Vex saw the entrance to the mines, as well as downtown, the outlying suburbs, and all the chintzy attractions that kept visitors from staying within their vacation budget.

She searched the crowd for one being, one needle in this chaotic haystack of pushy vacationers. The target’s name was Pythen, and they were a Navoran with light blue skin. Vex looked through her digital monocular, and zoomed in to survey various parts of the city. Wherever she looked, the monocular’s software scanned the crowd for Pythen’s face.

An aggressive seagull mistook the monocular’s strap for food, and tried to grab it as it flew by. Vex was so startled that she dropped the device. Reacting quickly, she reached out and called the monocular back into her hand. She didn’t have a huge range on her telekinesis - maybe ten meters at most - but fortunately she caught it before it fell beyond her reach.

She looked around. Had anyone seen her do that? Not that it mattered. Telekinesis was uncommon but it wasn’t unheard of. No one was going to burn her as a witch. Her current target even possessed the ability. But she’d grown accustomed to keeping it a secret, and she still felt a flash of shame whenever she used it.

Don’t tell your father. The words echoed through her mind. Her mother had said it so many times, it was drilled into her. Five-year-old Vera Xynth never understood why it was so important that her father not find out. She knew it had something to do with the fact that her parents didn’t have the power, and that her mother’s hairstylist did. But it was years before she put the pieces together. She managed to hide it until she was twelve, when she instinctively used her ability to save her father from a potential injury.

He was not grateful. To be fair, the majority of his anger was directed at Vera’s mother. They argued nightly, great shouting matches that kept Vera awake until sunrise. Her parents stayed together, but it would have been healthier for everyone if they hadn’t. Her mother started drinking, her father became more and more distant, and Vera felt like everyone blamed her. They stopped praising her for good grades, or punishing her for staying out past curfew. She felt like they no longer considered her their daughter. When she was fourteen, she ran away from home.

Vex no longer felt sad when she remembered her family. She’d found a much truer family with the East Side Daggers, and more recently with the Bloodhunters. She now knew that family wasn’t about blood, it was about acceptance.

She put down her monocular and clipped it to her belt. If Pythen was in Rarity City, they weren’t out sightseeing. They had an agenda. Vex would have to think like a criminal to find them. That wouldn’t be too hard for her; she’d spent most of her teen years stealing to survive.

Vex followed the walkway back up Princess Quora’s arm and into her ear. She took the elevator back down to the street level. The moment Vex stepped out of the elevator, a jumble of images flashed through her brain. This was her other power. It was a mild form of telepathy, but she had no control over it. Her mind subconsciously picked up the surface thoughts from all the people nearby, and predicted the near future based on their short-term decisions. It wasn’t exactly precognition, but it was close enough.

Right now it showed her a man playing cards. He was human, but Vex had a feeling he was connected to her quarry. There were at least three casinos nearby. She poked her head into the first one, but it had the wrong decor. The second one looked closer to what she’d seen in her vision, so she went inside and looked around. She knew she wouldn’t find Pythen here. Navorans weren’t allowed in most casinos. But maybe this card player would lead her to them.

It didn’t take long to find the gambler. He had the highest pile of chips at any of the tables, and he was attracting attention. Not far away, Vex saw a pit boss talking to a floorman, looking in the player’s direction. Apparently the player noticed too, because he lost a quarter of his winnings on his next bet. It must have been enough to satisfy the pit boss, because he shrugged and turned his attention elsewhere. But Vex recognized that it had been an intentionally bad bet, to throw off suspicion. The man won the next hand, then announced he was going to quit while he was ahead.

The player stood up and gathered up his chips. Keeping her distance, Vex followed him to the cash-out window. He took his credits and walked out the door. Vex continued to tail him. His next destination was another casino. Vex went in and sat down at a video poker machine, far enough away that she could watch him without arousing suspicion.

It didn’t take her long to figure out his angle. Before making any decisions, he always looked lost in thought. Sometimes his lips would move, almost imperceptibly. She’d seen people do that when talking to telepaths. This guy and Pythen were working together. But where was Pythen? He couldn’t be far, because Navoran telepathy didn’t have a very long range. But he couldn’t be in the casino. Even standing behind the building would rouse suspicion.

But he could be under it. Vex reached out with her mind, trying to sense if Pythen was in the utility tunnels below the building. But she sensed nothing, because that wasn’t one of her abilities. Still, it had been worth a try. Given the abilities she had now, who knew what else she might be capable of someday.

There was a hallway nearby that led to the restrooms. At the end of the hall, she saw a door marked “Utility Access: Employees Only.” There was a keycard reader next to the door. Vex walked around the casino floor, looking for a distracted employee. She spotted a floorman arguing with an older woman about whether the slot machines were rigged. The floorman’s keycard dangled from his belt. Vex made sure no one was looking, and held out her hand. The keycard wriggled out of its protective holder and flew into her grasp.

Once again making sure no one was watching, Vex walked down the hallway, swiped the keycard, and slipped into the utility room. It was hot in there, and not well-lit. Steam pipes and fuse boxes lined the walls. She found a floor grate with a ladder leading down into the tunnels below. The grate was locked, but Vex was good with locks.

As quietly as possible, she descended into the tunnel. These passages connected every business on this street. The tunnel stretched as far as she could see in both directions, with many side tunnels branching off the main passageway. Vex knew Pythen would want to be as close to his partner as possible to keep their mental link. She estimated about where the player had been sitting and searched in that direction. She arrived at a four-way junction, and peeked down the right tunnel.

Bingo. Pythen sat on a box, staring straight ahead, probably only seeing through their partner’s eyes. If Vex was quiet, she might be able to subdue them without much of a struggle.

Vex had only met one Navoran, but Trenyn’s powers were considered weak for their species. It was a dangerous prospect, attacking a fully-powered Navoran. They were powerful telepaths, and their telekinesis was unmatched. Vex could throw apples, but Pythen could probably throw hovercars. But she came prepared. Glik had given her a tranquilizer pistol, but instead of a sedative, the darts were filled with a drug that suppresses telekinesis.

Still crouched at the hallway entrance, Vex took careful aim at Pythen, and fired. The dart flew straight toward its mark. Then, mere centimeters from its target, the dart stopped in mid-air. Pythen turned their head and glared at Vex. Did you really think that would work? they asked telepathically.

Pythen stood up. They were about half a meter taller than Vex, had a large head, and yellow eyes. They had two arms but four hands – each arm split into two forearms at the elbow. Their blue skin turned darker, a sign of anger. The dart still hovered near their head.

Vex put on a brave face. “Pythen, you are wanted for eleven counts of fraud. If you come peacefully… well, it would sure make my job easier.”

Pythen hit her with the telekinetic equivalent of a punch to the face. It didn’t hurt much, but it sent her backward with such force that she flew more than ten meters. She might have broken some bones if she hadn’t used her own telekinesis to soften the landing. She rolled to her left and got to her feet. Seeing another side tunnel nearby, she sought refuge there.

It was a dead end, but there was a locked metal box fastened to the wall. Vex popped the lock and the box swung open on a hinge, revealing a control panel full of buttons and levers. There you are, she heard Pythen think as they reached her passage. She felt a prick in her neck. Pythen had hit her with her own dart.

Desperate, Vex pulled the largest lever, and all the lights went out. It was pitch black in the underground tunnels. Could Navorans see in total darkness? Vex wasn’t sure. She pulled out her monocular and switched it to night vision. Pythen certainly looked like they couldn’t see her. They appeared to be listening hard for her movement. Vex pulled the dart out of her neck and threw it across the hall. Pythen heard it hit the wall, and turned in that direction.

Vex pulled out her pistol and fired, the dart hitting Pythen in the back. They turned around angrily, throwing another invisible punch in Vex’s general direction. She tried to jump to the side, but it still knocked her sideways. Then the drug started to kick in, and Pythen staggered around, disoriented.

The effect was worse for Pythen than it was for Vex. Vex had been taught from an early age to suppress her telekinesis, and even today she treated it like a backup weapon. But Navorans were so incredibly dependent on their powers, losing them was like losing their arms.

The emergency lights flickered on. They could now see each other unaided, but without their mental powers, they were on equal footing. Vex pulled out her AON blades and switched them on. “Last chance,” she said.

I’ll take it, Pythen answered, their shoulders slumped.

“Oh,” Vex said, almost disappointed. She hadn’t expected that. She pulled out two pairs of cuffs and slipped them around Pythen’s wrists.

Pythen’s partner got away, but without a telepathic sidekick, he was out of business anyway. Pythen was kept drugged until they could be placed in a special cell that suppressed their abilities. Vex collected her bounty and returned to the Bloodwind.

A few days later she got a message from her mother. At first, she was confused. How did her mother know her address? Then she saw that it had been forwarded from the Bounty Hunter Registry. Pretty much anyone could message any registered hunter that way. Vex’s anonymity was still guaranteed unless she replied directly.

“My dearest daughter,

I saw your picture on the news. I’m so proud of you for catching that criminal. I have been following your career. You seem to be doing very well.

I miss you very much, but this is not an invitation to come home. When you left, a weight was lifted from this house. I’ve stopped drinking, your father and I have reconciled, and we’ve agreed to put the past behind us. I’m afraid that if you were to come home now, it would upset the apple cart.

But, I would still very much like to see you. Maybe we could meet for lunch sometime, just you and me. Your father doesn’t have to know. Just let me know.

I wish you the best of luck in your new career. Be careful and stay safe.

Love you always,

Mom”

Vex did not reply. She already had a family.

Like what you just read? Consider purchasing the entire e-book from one of these online retailers.

Excerpts: Among The Stars

The following is an excerpt from Bloodhunters v2: Blue Blood, Chapter 03.04. Some of the references make more sense in context.

ED.02347.06.19

Excerpt from the highly encrypted personal logs of Wexla Saurel Priviz, space explorer.

Thursday, 1700 hours, finds me sitting crossways in the pilot seat, legs hanging over one armrest, playing pinball on a datapad in my lap. I’m on a roll, I’ve got an extra ball locked and I’ve just achieved multi-ball. Then the unthinkable happens: triple drain, right down the center. In frustration I nearly throw the datapad across the cockpit. But I don’t. Instead I calmly pause the game and adjust the cigarette in my mouth. I don’t smoke. Once they discovered a way to make those healthy, fluoride cigarettes actually taste good, it seems like half the people on Earth took up the habit. But not me. Mine’s not even lit, I just have it because it reminds me of my wife. It’s been months since I’ve seen her. I hope I can go back soon. 

It’s hilarious, I took this job because I wanted some solitude. I’ve had trouble relating to humanity these days. Then, between missions, I met her. The woman with whom I wanted to spend the rest of this life. Now I only see her two months out of the year, if that.

I’ve been riding the warpstream for the better part of a year. It’s a dangerous way to travel, but that’s how we find new habitable planets. Warp into random points in the universe, and hope you don’t appear inside a star. 

Okay, okay, I’m making it sound more dangerous than it really is. While the warpstream is pretty random, it specifically scans for masses of gravity when deciding where to drop you. It’s designed to look for planet-sized gravity distortions, and to spit you out at a safe distance from them. So the chances of actually winding up inside a celestial body are pretty slim… but not zero.

Hopefully you find something good and place a beacon, so the next ships can home on it more easily. Eventually they build a warp gate so people can travel there safely.

My supplies are at less than half, and if I don’t hit paydirt soon I might have to cryo back anyway. Whenever I find myself brooding like this, missing everything I’ve left behind, I invariably start humming an ancient Elton John song. He’s right, it is lonely out in space. Sending out thousands of single-pilot vessels, as opposed to a small number of colossal exploration starships, was supposed to increase the odds of success. But it does have its drawbacks. Disgusted with myself - after all, no one forced me to accept this mission - I return to my game.

But only for a moment. A loud beep emits from the control panel beside me, startling me into losing my next ball. I instantly sit upright and examine the computer readout. And there it is. A solar system. I might be able to go back home sooner than expected. There is the familiar but still-jolting shudder as I drop back into realspace, and then I start scanning for habitable planets. Of course, the odds of finding a planet that’s immediately habitable are virtually nil, there’s always some amount of terraforming that has to be - hello, what’s this? Breathable atmosphere, two-thirds water, stable weather patterns... I guess I know which one to check out first. 

As the craft starts its automatic descent, I make preparations. I remove my flightsuit and pull on the body glove. Covering every inch of my body up to my chin, this thin fabric is both heat and cold resistant, and can filter out any harmful biotoxins while still allowing my skin to breathe. It even monitors my heart rate and other vital statistics. Next I put on my body armor. It’s light and form-fitting, but it’s strong. Built into the armor and helmet are weapons, scanning equipment, a jet propulsion system, air supply, communications, and a music player, without which I truly could not survive. I finish donning my suit just as the ship sets down. At least I know the ground’s stable. The hatch opens, the ladder descends, and I climb downward. I step off the ladder-

-and into paradise. The sky is a calm shade of lavender-gray, with the occasional pink cloud coasting by. The ground is covered with reddish sand, giving way to dark clay here and there. The vegetation that surrounds me is serene and beautiful, with white-barked trees that are barely taller than I am. In the distance I can hear the twittering calls of some sort of animal. So obviously this sphere supports life. I do a bioscan. Several animals in the vicinity, none of them larger than a cat. I see one of them now. It resembles a koala, but it’s only the size of a guinea pig. It scampers up to me, and I reach down and pet it. It nuzzles against my boot, making a sound similar to purring. This is beyond trusting. This is an animal that has never seen a predator in its life.

The bioscanners tell me that the air is breathable, time to put that to the test. A press of the button and my faceplate slides up into my helmet. I take a deep breath, and it’s heaven. The air is clean, cleaner than I’ve ever breathed. Earth never had air this clean. I catch the sweet scent of some kind of flora, and my heart races. The air is cool but not cold against my skin. I walk around, leaving the purring animal behind. I keep telling myself I’m just doing my job, scouting the area and making a judgment as to the planet’s habitability, but I know that I’m really just enjoying the scenery. This, right here, this is why I do this job.

I find a beach. The water is so clear I can see the bottom. An impulse hits me - completely against regulations, but I’m compelled. I scan the water, it’s safe. Did I expect anything less? No toxins, no chemicals, not even dangerous aquatic lifeforms, just pure H2O. I take a quick glance around, as if there were actually a possibility of someone watching. Then I take off the body armor, followed by the body glove. I test the water with my toes. Perfect. Of course. Next thing I know, I’m in it up to my neck and having the time of my life. I swim, I splash, I float on my back. It’s the most enjoyable experience I’ve had on this entire mission. 

Eventually I do heed my responsibilities and grudgingly put my biosuit back on. I make my way back to the ship and begin to file my report.

“Solar System 31526, Sector 17, Subsection G2, 4th Planet”

“Geologic State: Stable”

“Atmosphere: Earthlike”

Right. Earthlike? This is better than Earth. Much better. I finish the report, citing detail after perfect detail, until finally my finger hovers over the send button. This is it, a successful mission, I can finally go home. I look out the viewscreen, at this incredible planet, and and think about what it will look like in ten years. Maybe it won’t be so bad. Architecture these days is rather pleasing to look at, and we don’t pollute the air as much as we used to. There will certainly be fewer of those interesting trees, but some will survive. And those friendly animals... Okay, so maybe they won’t always be as trusting as they are right now. But they’ll survive. All in all, this will be a great place for the human race to perpetuate its rapidly increasing population. A place to start over, and maybe do things right for once. So...

My finger hovers a second more, and finally I hit the erase button. I’ll keep looking, but I’ll remember this place. For now, maybe I’ll just keep this planet to myself.

If you liked what you just read, please consider purchasing the full e-book at one of these online retailers.

Excerpts: Adrift

 

The following is an excerpt from Bloodhunters v1: Bad Blood, Chapter 02.07. Some of it might make more sense in context.

ED.02500.08.15

Space is cold. You wouldn’t think that was a controversial opinion, but if you were to phrase it that way in front of Raven or Trenyn, you might find yourself the target of a mini-lecture about the nature of temperature. After all, temperature is the measurement of the kinetic energy of molecules, and in space there are no molecules to measure. Therefore, it’s more accurate to say space has no temperature, though it does tend to make things in it cold. Any heat transfer you might experience is actually the temperature of cosmic radiation, which… and this is the point where most listeners zone out, vowing to keep their mouths shut around science geeks.

But if, instead of asking a scientist, you were to ask Yna, who currently floated in the empty blackness without the benefit of a spaceship… She would inform you that yes, space is indeed very cold. Especially when you’re naked. As Yna floated helplessly, protected from the vacuum by her mysterious energy form, she wondered how she could still be alive. Or was she? Could this be the afterlife? Floating in nothingness for eternity?

I must be alive, she thought. I have to pee.

So apparently her energy form gave her the ability to survive in the void of space. This was an amazing realization. If she could survive here, she could survive anywhere. Well, except for underwater, of course. Water had a tendency to short-circuit her power. Still, the scientific implications were staggering. She had always assumed that her energy form consumed oxygen, like fire. Obviously, it did not. The practical possibilities were pretty impressive as well. In a pinch, she might be able to exit a spacecraft to do emergency welding on the outer hull.

But as quickly as all these thoughts went through her head, they were pushed aside by more urgent considerations. She was in space. She was light-years from anyone who knew her. No one knew exactly where she was. She had no way to send a message. While she could propel herself to some degree, it would take her a million years to reach the nearest planet, even if she knew which way to go.

And worse yet, she knew she couldn’t stay in her energy form for too long. She always got sick when she reverted to human form, and experience had taught her that the longer she was energized, the sicker she would be when human again. The longest she had ever managed to stay energized was just over two hours. And that time she had paid for it, by coughing up blood for hours and nursing a harsh sunburn for a week. Being energized also made her very tired. Sooner or later she would lose consciousness, at which time her body would automatically revert to human form. And when that happened here, trapped in the infinite emptiness, she would die.

She was screwed. 

Even if it was futile, there had to be something she could do. She tried sending out a telepathic message. Of course, she wasn’t telepathic, but there was little point piddling over the small details now. Some species could read the minds of non-telepaths. Maybe one was listening now.

Okay, probably not, but it was pointless to just float here waiting for death. She had to think... The research station! That would be the closest object to her in space. Of course it would still take many lifetimes for her to reach it, but at least it gave her a direction. But... what direction was that? Yna was good at starmapping, and had learned a bit about stellar navigation when she’d been a pirate. But that was in a cartographer’s study, with maps and pens and other instruments at her fingertips. Floating here, in an unfamiliar area of space, it was a lot different.

However. She’d been heading towards the research station when her ship had exploded. She had just come from Vikara Prime, and she knew that the station was towards the outer rim of the solar system. Yna rotated around, taking in all the stars, until she centered herself on Vikara’s sun. She considered. Would Vikara Prime be closer? Yna doubted it. Her ship had flown for a good while before it exploded. Besides, both Vikara Prime and the research station were both impossibly far away, so she was as good as dead whichever way she went. With that cheery thought, Yna turned herself directly away from the sun and propelled herself forward. Rationally she knew that she would never reach it before she died, but it was nice to have a destination. As she flew through space, she recalled the events that had brought her here. 

Bloodstone had sent her on a mission, to apprehend a rather cunning villain named Asdith. He was wanted for murder on twelve planets. There were at least four bounties on his head, from various sources. Bloodstone wasn’t even sure which bounty they would collect. They would probably just sell Asdith to the highest bidder. 

Yna found and caught Asdith quickly and easily. Too easily. She should have been more suspicious, but she was excited about having done such a good job. So excited that she nearly forgot her secondary mission. On her way back to the Bloodwind, she was to stop off at Vortal Station, a large research vessel that studied Marae. The Marae were a species of shapeshifters, like Yna’s crewmate Dervish. Until recently, Marae had only been found on one of Grunthar’s moons. The Grunthians even claimed to have engineered the species. But now a few had been discovered in the asteroid belt outside the Vikara system.

One Marae, Vraxx, had worked for Lord Vermon of Valos. Whisper believed that Vraxx framed IGP Officer Alterra Sarr for the destruction of the IGP Space Station. So Yna was asked to stop by Vortal Station and just see if they had more information on the species. Maybe Vraxx had visited the asteroid belt. Maybe the scientists had developed ways to track Marae. It was probably a pointless stop, but it never hurt to ask.

A few hours after Yna set a course for the station, she went to the back of her vessel to check on her prisoner. But what she found was a trap. Her “prisoner” was actually an android, an artificial duplicate of Asdith meant to throw bounty hunters off the scent. And doing a damn good job, Yna thought. Yna was just about to turn the ship back around, but the android had one more nasty surprise for her. 

When the android exploded, Yna reflexively changed to her energy form. The explosion ruptured Yna’s tiny ship, causing several smaller blasts throughout the vessel, and blowing Yna out into space. Which was a lucky deal, because otherwise she would still have been inside the ship when the engines finally joined the bandwagon and blew apart, all but vaporizing the ship.

And that’s how Yna came to be here, in the cold blackness, on a doomed course towards Vortal Station. She was moving pretty quickly, actually, but distances in space were something on the vast side, so she knew she would only get so far. After about an hour, Yna started to get tired. She looked behind her. Vikara’s sun didn’t look any farther away than it had when she started. Not that she expected it to. There weren’t a lot of options available to her at the moment, so Yna kept on going.

Another hour. Probably. Yna was exhausted. All she wanted was to turn off her power and go to sleep. And she was very tempted to do so. She could still see no sign of any space station, and she was starting to get dizzy. She was just contemplating taking a short break when something hit her. Something big. And then there was nothing.

Blackness. Alarms blaring in the distance. Mechanical whirring. Dull pain, followed by cool wind. A whoosh, a metallic clang - a door closing? Skin burning, then cooling. More mechanical whirring. Electronic beeping. Pinpricks. Blackness.

Yna dreamed of nothing. She slowly regained consciousness, one sense at a time. For several minutes she lay there, eyes closed, listening. A steady beep. A heart monitor, chiming at a calm rate. She wondered if it was hers. She opened her eyes slowly, dreading the light. Fortunately the room was dim. She was in some sort of... medical facility? Was this Vortal Station? She sat up and looked down at her body. She was naked, except for some wires and sensors stuck to her in various places. She was expecting third-degree burns, but her skin was fair and healthy.

Odd.

Yna looked around the room. No one else was present. She removed the wires from her body and tossed her legs over the side of the bed. Shakily she put her feet on the floor and tried to stand. She was a little weak, but overall she felt okay. She looked at her surroundings. There were fourteen beds. All of them were empty but one. The occupant of the last bed was covered by a bloodstained sheet. Yna nervously walked over to the bed.

Obviously the patient was dead. They wouldn’t just leave a bloody sheet draped over the body of a live patient, not over the head like that. And there wasn’t any monitoring equipment around this patient. Nothing scary, nothing to worry about. People die, even on space stations. But all the blood... Well, it was a research vessel after all, and they do sometimes have accidents in the name of science. Could have been a chemical explosion or something. 

But why was the body still just lying in the medical bay like this? Even if it was an autopsy, they should have rolled the body back into the freezer when they were done. Wouldn’t want him releasing any microbes and viruses and whatnot around live patients. 

And where were all the doctors?

Yna cautiously put her hand on the sheet. One quick look, just out of curiosity. It’s not disrespectful. She didn’t mean any harm. She just had to know. Yna took a deep breath and pulled back the sheet. And then she screamed.

It was a human woman. Or most of one. Her body had been ripped open from the base of the throat to her navel. But it wasn’t the surgical precision one would expect from an autopsy. The edges of her skin were jagged and ripped, like torn fabric. Several organs had been removed from her chest cavity, but not by a doctor - that much was obvious. Most of her ribs had been broken off, her heart and one lung were missing, her remaining lung was only half there, her stomach had been punctured, and her intestines were torn.

The woman had other wounds as well. She was missing an eye and an ear. She had several tears on her face, arms, neck, and chest. In some places shredded muscle hung out from the wounds, morbidly reminding Yna of pulled pork. Her left arm was badly broken, with splintered bone protruding from the skin. One of her legs was gone. It was missing from about mid-thigh. It looked as if it had been gnawed off. 

Yna had seen a lot of death in her lifetime. At times she had even been the one doing the killing. She had seen people shot, stabbed, blown up, and even ripped in half. She had always been able to distance herself from disturbing imagery, to disassociate herself from the horrors of reality and look at things rationally and calmly. But this woman - her one eye staring off into space, her bloody mouth open in an expression of horror - this woman chilled Yna to the bone, and made her sick to her stomach. Yna turned away, fell to her knees, and regurgitated.

Once she recovered, Yna stood up and explored a bit. She found a gown and put it on. The doorway was unlocked, but she didn’t want to leave this room just yet. Shouldn’t the doctors be back soon to check up on her? In hopes of learning something useful, Yna approached one of the nearby computers and browsed the system. The first thing she did was confirm what she already suspected - this was Vortal Station, the research vessel. A little more poking around and she found a map of the ship. She was indeed in the medical bay, which was adjacent to the main cargo airlock. Not the most popular configuration, but in this case it made sense - they were searching the asteroids for Marae, and the medbay would be the first stop for any they brought aboard.

The main bridge was three levels up and on the other end of the ship - really about as far from her as it could be. Yna tried to call the bridge, but the intercom didn’t work. Then she tried using the computer to locate the crew, but the search found nothing. Either the computer was broken or everyone else had evacuated. 

That was a chilling thought. Why would they evacuate? Well, obviously it had something to do with whatever killed her buddy over there. So, why not just stay in this room, and send a message? No good. All outside communications had to be done from the bridge. This kept the scientists from sharing - and selling - their discoveries behind their colleagues’ backs. So... to the bridge then. Or not. Yna was reluctant to leave this room without knowing what might be out there. She explored the computer further, stumbling across the ship’s logs.

First, she read the computer’s daily autolog. As she had guessed, she had been rescued by one of the station’s automatic probes. The probes were designed to scan the asteroids for anything unusual, especially life signs. Yna had been hit by an asteroid and knocked for a loop. A nearby probe then used its Levatech beam to pull her inside. Luckily she hadn’t reverted to her human form until she was inside the probe. Once inside the station, the medical droids must have gone to work on her.

How long had she been out? According to the computer, that had been two days ago. Well, this was all interesting, but it didn’t tell her what she needed to know. Yna began reading the message logs.

Message To Command 12453: 

We have set up our station near this asteroid field. This belt of debris was formed as the result of an exploded moon. The moon must have been the home to a community of Marae shapeshifters. A few Marae survived the explosion and continued to live on the asteroids. They are a hardy species - they require very little food and can breathe a variety of gases. Some have survived by burrowing into the rock and living off of the various chemical compounds. 

 The Marae are not easily found in the galaxy. This is only the second discovery of the species. The only other existing community of Marae is on the second moon of Grunthar, which houses their slave breeding labs. The Grunthians exercise absolute control over their Marae resources, and therefore this is the first time humans have had a chance to study this species.

 And it is a fascinating species. Their ability to change shape is unequaled in the galaxy. We look forward to studying this species as much as possible in the coming months.

 So far, every specimen we’ve rescued has died in our lab a few hours later. 

Message To Command 13422: 

We have acquired another specimen today. Due to the radioactivity of the asteroid belt, Marae 427 has lost most of his shapeshifting ability. When we found him, he had degenerated into a mass of tentacles without the ability to maintain cohesion. Wild Marae are often non-sapient, surviving on instinct and achieving self-awareness only after encountering other cultures. This Marae, however, appears to be rather intelligent, and has even tried to communicate with us.

 

Message to Command 13512: 

Marae 427 has given himself a name. “Xox” has picked up our language quite easily and now has perfectly normal conversations with us. We have constructed an outfit for him which allows him to walk freely about the ship, despite his lack of cohesion.

 

Message to Command 13515: 

Xox has escaped. Sometime during the night he disabled our security programs and stole a shuttle. The irony is that we were working on a treatment that might have eventually cured his shapeshifting disability.

 

While Yna found the story interesting, it didn’t tell her what was going on right now. She skipped ahead a few months and continued.

Message to Command 13624: 

We found another live one. Marae 521 is much larger than other Marae we’ve encountered. He is also more malleable: his shapeshifting ability is the greatest we’ve seen so far. However, the time spent in space and the radiation from the asteroid have rendered him insane. At first, we thought that he was simply having trouble achieving sapience, but we soon discovered he possesses a cunning intelligence. His violent sociopathic behavior has forced us to keep him confined to a cell.

 

Message to Command 13628: 

Please send help. It’s loose. I’m the only one left. Please sen 

AUTOSAVED. 

MESSAGE TIMED OUT. 

 

“Blazes,” Yna said, and stood back from the computer. She held her hand out in front of her and tried to ignite it with energy. Nope. Just as she suspected, she couldn’t change into her other form just yet. Her body needed to recuperate first. If she was going to make it to the bridge alive, she would need a weapon. There wasn’t much in this room. Yna rummaged through the medical instruments. Finally, she found an AON scalpel. It was a decent weapon; the superheated blade was designed both to cut and to cauterize. It wasn’t very large, but holding it made Yna feel less vulnerable. 

She tried to find a better weapon, but apparently someone else had already picked out the best stuff. Yna thought for a minute. She had been in the medical bay for two days. If the Marae was still on board, it obviously would have had time to get to her by now. So either it didn’t know she was here, or it couldn’t get into the medical lab. That was promising. The final message log had been written five days ago. According to the computer, the author had written it from the bridge. Which made sense, because that was the only place you could send a message. That wasn’t good.

Okay, but that was five days ago. There was no reason to believe the Marae was still up there. It could be anywhere in the vessel, returning to its previous kills for further nourishment. It wasn’t a pleasant thought, but it might be Yna’s only chance for survival. Yna used the computer to call up a map of the ship. She studied all the routes, committing them to memory as best as she could. She considered the most direct route and all alternate routes. 

Would the maintenance tunnels be safer? Maybe that would be less conspicuous. Then again, she knew nothing about this creature. It might have made those tunnels its home. At least in the hallways she would have room to move around. Okay then. Direct route it was. Yna approached the entrance to the medlab. She took a deep breath and opened the hatchway.

The hallway was deserted. Yna’s footsteps, while nearly silent for lack of footwear, still made an echoing rhythmic thud that resounded through the hallway. At least they sounded that way to Yna, whose senses were heightened with fear. After a few minutes, she became aware of a loud breathing sound. She almost panicked before she realized that it was her own. 

She made it to the lift without incident. If this creature was still alive and on board, it wasn’t on this level. Yna entered the lift and pressed the button for the bridge. The doors slid closed, and the lift hummed as it started towards its destination. Then it stopped, much too early, with a shuddering thud. Yna gasped. She pushed the buttons, but there was no response. She tried to pry the doors open, but they wouldn’t budge. 

Only one thing to do. Yna opened the top hatch and climbed through. Something was stuck in the elevator’s track, preventing it from moving further. There was very little light, so Yna used the AON scalpel to illuminate the track. She found a foreign object wedged in the track, and moved closer to investigate. Yna nearly shrieked. It was a human head.

Yna looked around and listened, but she was still alone. Still, knowing that it had been here, that it could still be here, in the shadows, gave Yna chills. But she knew she couldn’t stay here, or hide in the lift. 

Or could she? That was one possibility. She could go back into the lift, seal the hatch, and wait there until she was rested enough to change to her other form. Once she could use her energy form, she would be a much more formidable opponent.

But that wouldn’t work, for obvious reasons. First off, she had no idea how long it would be before she would be able to change forms again. She could starve to death first. Second, there was no reason to believe that this creature wouldn’t be able to break into the lift. And third, until she sent some sort of distress call from the bridge, there was no reason to believe help was coming. She was alone. She had to get a move on, and soon.

Yna couldn’t fix the lift. She didn’t want to spend any more time in the elevator shaft than necessary, but it looked like the only way to get any farther would be to climb. Small rungs lined the sides of the shaft, which she now used. Before she even got underway, however, something stopped her. A noise, from above. Some sort of groaning, which echoed down the shaft.

Oh, crap, thought Yna. She pulled out her AON scalpel and ignited the blade. Warily she looked upwards, for some sign of movement. And then she saw it. Only it wasn’t a monster she saw, but rather the bottom of another lift. It was shaking. Something was inside it, moving around. The lift began to move downwards, towards Yna. If it reached her, it would crush her. Yna had to get out of the shaft, and now. Yna was just a few meters below the door to the second level of the ship. She climbed the rungs until she was next to the hatchway, and looked for a way to open it. 

Above, the elevator shook noisily. Something snapped, and a wheel plummeted down the shaft, clanging its way from wall to wall, just passing Yna on its way down. The lift above lurched and squealed, and then moved towards Yna at high velocity. Yna quickly found the door override switch, and the entry door swooshed open. At the last possible second, she threw herself into the hallway, the elevator just missing her as it fell down the shaft. There was an explosive crash as it collided with the other lift. Smoke filled the hallway.

Yna looked back at the elevator shaft. It was now completely blocked. She stood there, scalpel ready, expecting a shapeshifting monster to burst from the rubble at any moment. Had the Marae been in the elevator above when it fell? Yna knew she had heard something moving around in it, but that could have just been the beginning of its fall, combined with her nervous imagination. And if the creature had been inside, was it dead now?

She would have to find another way to the next level. Remembering the map, Yna knew that there was another elevator at the other end of the ship. Alternatively, she could take the maintenance tunnels to a higher place in the elevator shaft. But she still didn’t like that idea. Nope, she would have to go the long way. The upside to this was that by taking the hallway she might find some supplies or an armory or something.

Yna proceeded down the hallway. It was very quiet. Yna’s heartbeat pounded loudly in her ears. She was about to turn a corner, but she stopped. There was a smell... it wasn’t a good smell. And... movement? No... the lights were flickering in that direction. Yna had seen a similar short in the lights on the lower level. Yna stood, her back to the wall, wondering if she should turn the corner. On the one hand, if the creature had been in the elevator, then it was behind her now. Or still on the upper level, where the second lift had originated. Either way, the Marae would not be in this hallway. 

On the other hand, the movement in the elevator might have been her imagination. And she really had no idea what she was dealing with. Yna pondered this, but not for too long. She couldn’t keep second-guessing herself. She could keep going back and forth between routes forever, but the only way out of this was to make a decision and proceed. Yna mustered all her energy and turned the corner.

There was a man on the floor. Or at least most of one. The corpse, bloated and mangled, lay in a large puddle of blood. Flesh had been gouged out from numerous locations. Much like the body in the medlab, this one had been cut open, and many of its organs were gone. And from his mouth protruded a strange bumpy cable. This thick gray cord extended from the man’s face, up the side of the wall, and into the air ducts. And it was moving. Pulsating. The dead man’s jaw opened and closed as the tentacle convulsed.

Shocked, Yna dropped the scalpel. The gray vine reacted instantly, withdrawing itself from the corpse’s mouth and facing Yna. The end of the tentacle sported a mouth of its own, filled with many needle-like teeth. Yna could only stare, wide-eyed and open-mouthed. The tentacle bubbled, and from the left side, one bump split open to reveal a bloodshot eyeball. One which centered on Yna. The rest of the creature’s gray mass began to pour from the air duct. As it hit the floor, it started to re-form itself.

Yna didn’t stick around to see what this form would be. She was off like a shot, running at top speed in the other direction. She picked a door at random and went inside, shutting and locking the door behind her. Yna looked around for some sort of weapon. She was in a laundry room. Nothing of use in here, unless this creature was allergic to chlorine bleach. Yna doubted it. She stood there for a minute, listening. She heard something moving in the hallway. A sort of half-step, half-slither. The sound passed by her without stopping. 

Yna, now feeling very helpless, went through the laundry until she found some actual clothing. She found a blue jumpsuit and hastily put it on. Then she looked around the room for other exits. The laundry chute. She was on the second level now; the chute would lead up to the crew deck. A definite improvement, it would get her both closer to the bridge and farther from the monster.

The laundry chute was a little tight, but Yna managed to squeeze into it. It was a difficult climb, as the chute was mostly vertical, but she made it. As she pulled herself out of the top of the chute, she thought she heard some noises from down in the laundry room. She listened carefully but heard nothing further. Hopefully, it was just her imagination. She closed the chute behind her and started down the hallway.

She wasn’t that far from the elevator shaft. Running as fast as she could, Yna reached the shaft, opened the doors, and climbed up the next level. But when she reached the hatchway to the bridge, the doors wouldn’t open. She tried hitting the override switch, but they wouldn’t budge. Severely disappointed, Yna climbed back down the shaft, arriving once again on the crew deck.

Yna explored a few rooms, looking for one with a working computer. The first room she entered was a crew quarters, with all the amenities, including another mangled corpse and a smashed computer. The next room she tried was more promising: no corpse, and a working computer. Yna sat down and searched the logs for information pertaining to the bridge. It turned out that the door wouldn’t open because the bridge wasn’t safe to enter. Apparently, there had been a hull breach, and the bridge was now completely without oxygen.

Yna thought through this for a while. She could try to find a pressure suit, and then attempt to enter the bridge from the outside... probably not a good idea. The computers up there probably didn’t even work anymore. Which meant, once again, that Yna was screwed. 

Yna poked around some more, looking for anything that might help her. The crewman who had once occupied this room kept an encrypted journal. Yna looked around the room for clues to the password. She took a couple of guesses, then got locked out. A pop-up prompted her to reset the password, and she clicked OK. She pulled up the crewman’s e-mail, which was already logged in, and had just received a “password reset” message. Within a few moments, Yna had access to the journals.

Dr. Morvik Personal Journal 13626: 

I hate working with fools. The other scientists don’t realize the military applications these creatures could have. They’re so short-sighted. They should realize that it’s not about research, it’s about profit. The government’s not going to fund their projects if they’re not pulling in money.

 The Grunthians make a tidy sum by selling their bodyguards and harem girls, but with my experimental Marae steroid, the Grunthians can build an army of powerful shapeshifting soldiers. And so what if they use their new army to conquer other planets? Even if they conquer Earth, I don’t care. I’ll be retired and living on Valos by then.

Dr. Morvik Personal Journal 13627: 

It’s done. The Marae is loose. It will be another week before I can leave, but I should be safe in this room. The door is reinforced, and the air vent isn’t connected to the main ventilation system. If the Marae does try to break in here, I have built a sonic transmitter that will calm him. One more week and my Grunthian transport will arrive, taking me to a new life of luxury.

Yna kept reading Morvik’s logs. Interesting. So it wasn’t radiation that had caused this Marae’s mutation after all. This Doctor Morvik had been planning to betray them all along. He was planning to escape on a Grunthian ship. Yna quickly pulled up the ship’s security cameras on the computer. And there it was, pulling into the landing bay. “The rendezvous ship!” Yna said aloud, and stood up. She turned, ready to head out the door...

...And found herself facing the business end of an energy pistol. The wielder was a short, balding man with a sneer on his face. “Doctor Morvik, I presume,” Yna said, putting her hands in the air.

“Who are you?” he asked nervously. “How much do you know?”

He must think I’m law enforcement, Yna thought. “Okay, you caught me,” Yna said. “I was just the first scout. The IGP is on its way. But if you’ll let me go, and help me get off this ship, I won’t tell them what I’ve found.”

Morvik considered this proposal. “You’re lying,” he finally decided. He raised his weapon, aiming it at Yna’s head.

Yna didn’t flinch. Her expression remained neutral. Calmly, she explained, “If you kill me, the IGP will definitely show up and arrest you. However, if you take me to a transmitter, I’ll call them and tell them not to come.”

Morvik shook his head. “You’re no cop. And even if you are, I’ll be long gone by the time they get here. And this vessel won’t be here either. It’s on a collision course for the asteroid field.” He held the gun up again, ready to pull the trigger. Suddenly there was a loud pounding at the door. Morvik instinctively turned his head. In that brief moment of distraction, Yna lunged at the scientist and grabbed for the gun. She gripped his wrist tightly, preventing him from aiming at her.

Morvik punched her in the face with his free hand, but he wasn’t very fit and Yna recovered quickly. She kneed him in the stomach, still holding tight to his gun hand. As she fought for control of the weapon, Yna’s fingers began to burn. 

Yna’s left hand, now clasped around Morvik’s gun and fingers, glowed a bright blue. There was a quick, intense blast of heat, and Morvik’s hand was melted to the gun. The scientist screamed in pain and cradled his misshapen hand. Yna jumped backward, considering her next course of action. She couldn’t waste any more time fighting this man. Yna put her back to the wall, next to the door. She pressed the button to leave. As the door slid open, the angry Marae burst into the room, headed right past Yna. Yna quickly jumped into the hallway and closed the door behind her. 

As she ran down the hall, she wondered if this was the last she would see of Morvik. If he managed to reach his sonic transmitter, he would survive. But if he was still preoccupied with his mangled hand, the creature would devour him before he could stop it. Either way, Yna had to get to the landing bay as soon as possible.

The landing bay was back on the lowest level, and it took several minutes of exploration to find it. Yna sneaked into the large landing area, staying in the shadows. The ship sat in the bay, and two armed Grunthians stood outside the doors, waiting. Yna would have to sneak aboard the ship and hide. Whether Morvik showed up or not, the Grunthians would have to leave before the research vessel hit the asteroid field. But sneaking aboard could be difficult.

Yna was an experienced pirate. Stowing away was her specialty. The ship’s door stood wide open, so all she really needed to do was distract the guards. But how to do that?

Then an echoing scream came from down the hall. Both Grunthians approached the noise, weapons raised. Yna swiftly sneaked behind them, and went through the door. Once inside, she found a storage locker large enough to fit in. It was pitch black, but she could still hear weapons fire and screaming.

Three sets of footsteps ran into the ship, and the door closed. There was a lot of shaking from outside the small craft. The ship lifted off and blasted away from the science vessel. Once things had calmed down, Yna listened carefully to the occupants of the ship.

“Whew, thanks. I thought I was dead back there,” said Morvik.

“Where is the formula for the Marae steroid?” said a Grunthian voice.

“In due time,” Morvik said.

“Now. Or you will die.”

“I don’t have it written down,” Morvik replied. “It’s all in my head. I will tell it only to your scientists, and only when we reach the Grunthian moon.”

The Grunthian growled in disappointment. It was clear that they had been planning to kill him once they received the steroid. Morvik must have had experience in dealing with such unsavory types. Yna wondered what Morvik’s plan was once he got to Grunthar. Well, it wasn’t her problem. All Yna had to do was hope she remained undiscovered, and then steal this ship once it was empty.

It was a promising plan, and it might have worked if Morvik hadn’t needed medical supplies for his hand. When the supply locker opened, Yna once again found herself face-to-face with the mad doctor. “You!” he shouted. Both Grunthians, weapons drawn, stood up and regarded the stowaway. Morvik ordered them to kill her, and they were more than willing to comply. They aimed their weapons...

And once more Yna was rescued by events beyond her control. The ship shook violently, knocking all the occupants from wall to wall. All eyes turned to the front of the ship, where they beheld a terrifying sight. The forward window, usually offering a panoramic view of the stars, was completely covered by a shapeless gray mass. One large pseudopod hammered relentlessly at the window, finally cracking it. 

Yna wondered, It can survive the vacuum of space? Then, Well, duh, that’s where they found it. The ship’s four passengers looked on in horror, unable to prevent what was about to happen. One final punch and the window shattered. Everything that wasn’t welded down got blown out the window. The Marae used one leathery tentacle to latch onto the pilot’s seat. As the ship’s occupants flew past it, the Marae grabbed Dr. Morvik with another appendage and bit his head off.

Yna’s survival instincts took over, and once again she found herself in her energy form, floating helplessly in space. One of the dead Grunthians floated past her, and Yna grabbed him. His flesh sizzled from her touch, but she held on tight and searched his outfit for anything she could use, like a communicator. Of course, there were all kinds of reasons she wouldn’t have been able to use a communicator even if she had found one, but she was in a hopeless situation and therefore grasping at straws.

It was pitch black in space, especially at this time of night. But Yna’s energy form gave off a blue glow which helped her search the Grunthian’s corpse. She found nothing but his sidearm, which wasn’t going to be of much use to her. Yna clung to the corpse, parts of which gradually burned away from her touch. The vacuum of space prevented the corpse from actually catching on fire. Instead, it just slowly melted in the spots she touched. 

For the seventh time this mission, Yna knew that this was the end. She wouldn’t be able to stay in her energy form for as long this time, she was still too weak. She simply had no options.

In the distance, Yna could just make out the lights of the decompressed Grunthian ship from which she had been expelled. There was no longer anyone at the helm, but apparently the autopilot mode was still working. It would continue on its original course until it was recovered by the Grunthians or someone else.

If the Marae was still in it, they might be able to extract the steroid from its system. Or even if not, they might be able to use the Marae itself to breed a more powerful type of warrior. Either way, it was giving the Grunthians more power than Yna wanted them to have. Yna considered. If she was going to die in space anyway, she might as well do something productive with her time.

Yna drew the dead Grunthian’s weapon. She aimed carefully, using the long-range scope, and fired several shots at the escaping ship. Her third shot hit its mark, piercing the ship’s engines and causing a bright but quickly extinguished explosion. If the Marae was still inside, it would be toast. That done, Yna released the weapon and corpse, allowing them to float free into eternity. She watched them coast casually away, the gun still bright white from where she had gripped it. It was soon just a pinprick of light in the distance, lost among the other tiny pinpricks of light. 

Yna realized that one of the pinpricks was moving closer. What the hell? Was the gun coming back? She squinted, but she couldn’t make out any details. All she could tell was that a light was moving towards her. Yna was anxious, not wanting to get her hopes up, but still bristling with curiosity. 

When it finally got near, Yna saw that it was a glowing ship of strange design. It was round, with no engine or jetstream or any of the features you would expect from a ship. Yna wasn’t even sure how she knew it was a ship, except that something in the back of her memory told her it was. It had no windows, but the entire vessel had a transparent quality to it. 

Inside the ship, she saw several people watching her. They were human-shaped, but featureless, with bright glowing skin. Yna felt an immediate kinship with them. The ship got closer, and she could feel herself being pulled toward it. Soon, all she could see was the bright light emanating from the ship. 

Light... and then darkness. 

Yna woke in a medical bay, covered with a thin turquoise blanket. A medical technician saw her stir and came over to check up on her.

“Where am I?”

“You’re safe. You’re on Outpost Station 4132. You had some burns when you arrived, but they’re almost gone. Is there someone you would like us to contact?”

“How... how did I get here?”

“We’ve been wondering that ourselves. You were dropped off, we think.”

“By who?”

“We don’t know,” the med tech said. “Our computers went glitchy, then alerted us that an airlock had been activated. You were inside, unconscious, nude, and covered in burns. What happened to you?”

Yna stared off into space. “I think... I think it was a family reunion.”

Far away, a large chunk of metal debris floated through space. It had once been the hull of a small Grunthian craft, but now it was just a tangle of twisted junk. Clinging to this useless scrap of machinery, however, was something decidedly nonmetallic. This “something” was gray, shapeless, grotesque... and moving.

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