He woke up, took a shower, and made his way to the cyber city of Nefthalos. Sky-lanes bustling with aircrafts, neon-lit cityscape and crowded streets. Some of the best pilots in the Andromeda called this planet home.
He walked through the streets and entered a building. Guards scanned him. Clear. He walked off into the lobby and finally reached the office.
Standing by the window, staring at the cityscape, when a short and bald man entered the room and slumped into his office chair.
"Vayne, my friend! Been too long?"
"Cut the crap! What's the gig?"
"Straight to business... don't be like that. I missed you."
"You left me rot. Prathenans were torturing me. I almost got my ass killed."
"Bygones. Police raided the place, you slipped out. I knew you would."
"You know what, let's call this off." He started for the exit.
"Wait." The bald man scrambled and blocked his way. "Listen up! If you don't like this job, you can leave. It's good money. Really good."
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Zanaris loaded crates into his ship as he leaned against the hull, sipping beer. Then came growl of military vehicles. He picked up his binoculars; holograms tagged at least twelve hover-cars.
He yelled at the human-likes, "We've got company! Burn the rest of the crates."
The workers and armed men hurried out of the cargo bay, scattered. The tailgate shut. Vayne launched into the sky.
Several police ships tailed him, but he shook them off.
He touched down Nefthalos, where his boss greeted him at his private docking station.
"See? Easy job."
"You didn't say anything about military."
"What? That can't be!" He chuckled.
Vayne punched him in the gut. The man groaned. His men tried to move, but the boss stopped them.
Vayne leaned to his ear. "Next time you gamble, put your own ass on the line."
Vayne walked back to the ship. The crates were already unloaded.
The fat man yelled after him, "This is your home, Vayne! You've got no other place to go. You hear me?"
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Nefthalos had the most notorious markets and the darkest webs... underworld marketplace.
Vayne wasn't born here. He was born and raised on Afthalos, the neighboring planet in the same star system... where his family lived.
Short story: Vayne was the youngest in the family. His brothers had promising careers. His parents always taunted him. He got tired of it and left home. Left his planet.
Vayne could have served in the Afthalosian military, but he hated rules. He liked doing what he wanted. That's exactly what he was doing now.
Sipping beer, listening to music, as two voluptuous women danced topless in neon haze of a hotel room.
The next morning he woke up. The women slept, bodies draped over the sheets. He grabbed a beer, put on his jacket, and strode into the hallway. His comm buzzed. He pulled it from his pocket. The holograph said: *Unknown Caller.*
"Vayne Transportation Services. May I help you?"
An alluring woman's voice responded. "We have a client. 30k units. RS-031 star system."
Vayne's face lit up. This wasn't his boss. This was one of the most prestigious underground networks. They paid good money and were well-reputed in Nefthalos.
"Sign me up," he said as he entered the hotel lobby. He checked out at the counter and sat down.
Across the table, on the other side, sat a bodacious woman.
Vayne had known plenty of women, but she was something else. Beauty edged with danger. Bare thighs beneath a cropped jacket, a mask veiling her face, bluish-white hair spilling loose over shoulders.
Her electric-blue eyes locked on him. 'Perfect opening,' he thought, rising. But before he could move, she flicked her gaze to the door. He followed. Black-suited agents swept in.
"Shit." Vayne bolted.
Hotel's back exit. Alley. He took a taxi to the public docking station where his ship was parked.
Inside the cockpit, he studied the details of his assignment sent by the organization. Data streamed across his pilot's console. He leaned back and stretched his body.
'They almost had me this time,' he thought about the men—government agents. 'Who was that woman?'
His ship flew out of Nefthalos' orbit and entered Afthalos.
The next day, he stood at his brother's marriage ceremony.
"Didn't think you'd make it." His brother fist-bumped him.
"What? I'm just here for the bride." He leaned in and kissed her cheek. "Pretty! Don't let my brother talk you into staying here forever."
She laughed, radiant. A model, an actress. Vayne had always been the handsome one, but looking at his brother, the genes spoke for themselves.
The next morning, sitting at the table with his two elder brothers and parents, he sipped his coffee. His father started the same old discussion. Family name. What he was doing with his life.
Next morning, coffee in hand, Vayne sat at the table with his parents and two elder brothers. His father began again. The family name. His wasted life.
Vayne cut him off. "I'm leaving, Ma. Brought you roseberries from Nefthalos."
Nothing for his father.
"At least hear him out, let him—"
He ignored the rest, closed the door behind him, and stepped outside. White marble tiles stretched toward the gates and down to the beach. His ship gleamed at the shore.
Two years gone, and nothing had changed. He sighed, slipped on his shades, and strode toward his vessel.
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The mission was simple: tansport stolen star-silk. It wasn't his home star system.
However, militants tagged him. They swarmed him and fired at his ship. He was surrounded—twenty spacefighters with advanced shields and weapons.
"Fuck! Who the hell are these guys?"
He maneuvered and blew three of them apart, but his ship was taking damage. He led them into an asteroid belt. They had better ships, but sharp instincts was the test.
Three more slammed into floating rock-mountains and exploded. Down to fifteen.
"Ha-ha! Giving up so soon?" Vayne taunted over the radio as they began to retreat.
"We wanted you alive but if you prefer these rocks to be your tombstone, we'll oblige," one ship responded.
Next, all the ships bombarded the asteroid field with lasers and rockets. Vayne hovered in the middle, hiding.
Debris hurtled from every direction. He was on the edge of his seat, zig-zagging through openings. Finally, he zoomed out of the clustered rocks and breathed.
"Phew! That was close."
Just then, a huge electronic web trapped his ship. An invisible electromagnetic snare, spun by six drones. Once trapped, a small spacefighter like his had no chance of escaping.
"Damn it!"
He scanned the drones through the viewport and on his pilot screens.
Suddenly, a fast ship streaked past, blowing two of the drones. Web broke. His ship was free.
A woman's voice crackled in his cabin.
"Thank me later. Now shoo off before I change my mind."
"Whatever you say," he punched the throttle, catching one last glimpse of her scoutship tearing through the militants.
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She left the lobby as government agents chased after the young man.
Walking the street, her comm buzzed. "Commander, the target is still on the move. Change of plans?"
She replied to Mira, "I think we're after the wrong guy. Can you check on him again?"
"Alright, Commander!"
Eve was on a Nomad mission. Vayne was the name on the file. When she reached her hotel, new information was sent to her datapad.
Nomad and Saiyaran Intelligence report. Eve read it, then took a shower. Mira chimed in on comm. Eve put it on speaker as she dried off and dressed.
"Eve, the transporter has mercs, militants and agents on his tail. We were in it because of the alliance."
"That's interesting. How has he managed to dodge them all for so long?"
"He's a great pilot. But on the ground. He's just as good as any guy you can punch on the street."
"He's handsome. I like him."
"I think our guy is heading toward trouble. You wanna…?"
"Send me the details. And Mira, make sure his name is cleared from IC target list."
Vayne had bounties on his head. No surprise. Transporters lived that way. He was just slipperier than most. IC wanted Eve on task after repeated pleas from allied worlds.
Eve had read Vayne's report. To her, he was just another guy trying to earn living in a hard to survive world.
Nefthalos brought back memories of Eve's bounty hunting days. She stayed two days longer before leaving, just to explore how the place had changed.
Already in orbit, her ship on autopilot, Eve was reading a book on her way back to Nomad when Mira's voice reverberated through the cabin.
"Commander, Vayne's in trouble again. Neighboring solar system. I thought you'd want a follow up."
"Send me the coordinates."