Gamma Hounds (Third Person POV)

  The flight to the station and the collection of their bounties had been uneventful. The Harriers had proven to be surprisingly courteous guests. Compared to their earlier boasts and bluster, they were uncharacteristically silent. Even after collecting bounties they had only parted with a thanks and goodbye. Before long they were back on the ship where Evan figured he would soon be forced to follow through on his tax commitment.

  Sure enough, Evan found himself on the couch with the team's expenses from the last year in front of him. Ironic that people still have to do their own taxes here. Guess that’s to be expected from a low regulation government like the Federation. Though I do wonder if the Imperials have to do something similar. “Okay so based on Federation Tax code we are technically a private business and can mark all of these as business expenses.” Evan motioned to a section that contained a vast majority of the team's expenses such as ship equipment, repairs, and even payments to information brokers. “Also we can easily get away with all of our team dinners being marked off due to them being ‘business meetings.’” He further explained drawing an impressed whistle from Ratchet.

  Nia snorted, her tail curling lazily as she lounged in her chair. “An accountant turned bounty hunter. I think I’ve heard of stranger career paths—but not many.”

  “It’s really not so bad. I learned Federation Tax Code while I was still training under my mentor. But that should do it for now. I can finish the rest of this up later.”

  Emerald watched Evan. Her sharp gaze stayed fixed on him, her tone crisp. “With that squared away I think we should circle back to our earlier conversation. You seemed adamant on dealing with the raiders. To the point where I’m guessing it wasn’t an overabundance of caution.”

  The smirk vanished from Evan’s face. His gaze lowered, voice tightening like a wire drawn taut. “Because I’ve seen the lengths the Reavers are willing to go to.”

  "What are you talking about?" Ratchet asked. "Reavers are cowards. Pop one or two and they tuck tail."

  Evan didn't say anything. He didn't even look up. He just looked at the table top and the splayed papers and quietly shook his head.

  That stilled the room. Even Ratchet, usually quick with a quip, didn't say anything else.

  Nia tilted her head, curiosity flickering in her golden eyes. “What exactly happened?”

  Evan’s throat bobbed once. He reached up, removed his helmet, and set it carefully on the table between them. Leaning forward, he braced his arms against his knees, as though steadying himself against a memory that still burned fresh.

  “Well, it happened Two years ago…”

  Evan

  The memory returned with brutal clarity.

  I was a rookie then—still green and on my first solo mission. My ship and my suit were both gifts, tokens marking the start of a career that frankly wasn’t my first choice. My mentor, Eliza Simon—Simmy, as I called her—had set me on this path. She believed I could carve out a something for myself in the Nova System.

  And on that day, I wanted to prove her right.

  From a distance, the station looked ordinary—traffic weaving in and out, the usual chaos of a hub on a trade lane. But as I drew closer, the chaos changed shape. Ships weren’t docking—they were fleeing. Fighters darted in tight formations, brown-painted hulls swarming like carrion birds. Blaster fire flared, explosions pulsed. A battlefield unfolded in the void.

  More than half the ships were Rusted Reavers. I recognized the ugly brown paint, the patchwork hulls of mass-production Hewards. Cheap ships, countless in number. And they weren’t harassing smugglers or raiding freighters. They were sieging the station.

  Ratchet’s ears pricked as he interrupted. “Hold on. Rusted Reavers? A whole fleet of them? No way a rookie bounty hunter should’ve been anywhere near that.”

  I exhaled slowly, suppressing the mild annoyance at the interruption. “I wasn’t supposed to be. My bounty was a minor smuggler. But I walked straight into a war zone.”

  Nia smirked faintly. “And you didn’t turn tail?” She prodded.

  “Not when I saw the station’s east bay holding on by a thread. Not when I realized if those people fell, the civilians inside were next.” I explained.

  Emerald leaned forward slightly, elbows on her knees, expression unreadable. She didn’t interrupt—just gestured for me to continue.

  On the battlefield’s edge, two Talons loomed in formation, heavy frames bristling with weaponry. They weren’t firing. They were waiting, guarding the escape lanes.

  That made them my priority.

  I prepped one of the few explosives I carried: a Melter Bomb. Dangerous and hellishly expensive for a fresh pilot. But against Talons? It was the perfect solution. I disabled auto-targeting, relying on manual aim. Anything electronic would’ve tripped their sensors.

  Ratchet barked out a laugh, unable to hold it in. “Manual firing a melter?” He shook his head, grinning. “That’s a dangerous game.”

  I shot him a look. “It was desperation. And maybe luck. The bomb didn’t hit dead center, but it was close enough. One Talon vaporized. The other lost a wing and a chunk of its cockpit.”

  Nia’s whiskers twitched, her tone amused. “Quite the shot if you were out of the range of their proximity sensors."

  “Again there was a lot of luck to it, but regardless the swarm noticed me. Half the Reavers peeled off and came straight at my fighter. Dozens of MPs against my Alis. My shields held at first, but every shot pushed them closer to overload. The only reason I lived was maneuverability.”

  I leaned back, rubbing at my temple, the memory heavy. “It felt endless. A storm of fire. Blasters pelting me, warnings blaring about my shield integrity dropping. Every second stretched thin.”

  Emerald’s tail flicked once, the only outward sign of tension. “And yet you didn’t retreat.”

  “I couldn’t.” I stated, and was surprise to hear my voice come out almost a growl. “If those Talons had joined, no one in that bay would’ve lasted the hour. When the swarm moved in there was no chance for retreat”

  Thankfully when Reavers split their attention they lost the advantage they held over the locals. This allowed them to make rather short work of those that remained on them. Soon enough, the swarm thinned. My counter-fire was only responsible for dealing with 3 or 4 of the dozens of Hewards. The remainder faltered, broken by my maneuvering and the station defenders’ rally. They ended up retreating rather than fighting to the last man. Chaos was replaced by silence.

  Then my console chimed. An incoming hail.

  I remembered Simmy’s warning: Never take off your helmet in Federation space. Don’t ask why. Just don’t.

  Emerald raised her eyes as I recounted the warning, but I continued.

  So when I answered the call, I kept my helmet on.

  A Pitbull Gerralian’s face filled my screen, broad-muzzled and scarred but smiling with relief. “Thanks for the save, hunter. If you hadn’t taken out those Talons, things might’ve gone bleak.”

  I nodded once, forcing my voice even. “You too.”

  Nia couldn’t help but break into a full blown belly laugh at that revelation of mine. “Odd detail to remember.” She said wiping her eye.

  I shrug. “Those awkward moments tend to stick with me."

  The Pitbull frowned. “Not sure what you mean by that, hunter. But listen—if you’re sticking around, we could use your help.”

  “I really should have just left”

  Ratchet leaned in eagerly. “So what did you do?”

  I flicked my eyes toward him, then away. “I heard him out.”

  I rubbed his hands together slowly, grounding myself before continuing. “The Pitbull was the station’s chief of security. He told me the east bay was secure, but the west the Reavers had already overrun it.”

  Unauthorized use of content: if you find this story on Amazon, report the violation.

  Ratchet muttered, low but sharp, “That’s a nightmare scenario.”

  Emerald nodded “It’s cheaper to buy personal equipment than ship parts. So Reavers tend to be more dangerous on foot.”

  Nia arched a brow. “Naturally, you volunteered to waltz in alone.”

  I chuckled humorlessly. “Volunteered? No. He offered it as a bounty. And I accepted.”

  Emerald looked at me in assessing manner. “Why are you so reckless?” She said a with a hint of exasperation and to my surprise genuine worry.

  Docking in the eastern bay was chaos. Local bounty hunters and militia were flooding in, most of them under-equipped, all of them staring at me like I was a stranger—because I was. My Alis was cleaner, sharper, and my armor heavier than anything they carried.

  When I dropped from the cockpit, my boots hit the deck with a thud that turned heads. I ignored them. Pulled out my comm-pad, reviewed the map the chief had sent me. On my way there I saw more than one happy reunion.

  One pilot in particular shambled out of a fighter that looked years past its prime. He was younger which meant he probably got it cheap. He slumped against the side of his fighter and took a few deep breathes, pulling off his helmet to reveal a golden retriever with sunken features. “Honey?” A woman said coming around the fighter, instantly causing the retriever to look revitalized. He stepped forward and swept her to an embrace, just happy to be alive.

  I’m not sure why I remember him, but the image of that retriever and his sweetheart has stuck with since that day. Looking back it was probably one of the few genuinely happy moments I saw.

  The direct route to the western bay was a tram line, a straight shot through the station’s spine. In peacetime, the tram made it a two-minute ride. In lockdown, the cars shut down, leaving only the narrow maintenance walkway along the rails. That’s where I had to go.

  Two guards waited by the door, both nervous, both armed with cheap carbines. One swallowed hard when I approached. “You the hunter chief told us about?”

  I nodded, keeping my words to myself. I’d already slipped once with that Pitbull, and I wasn’t eager to make another mistake.

  The silence stretched until the second guard reached over and keyed the door. Metal parted with a hiss, revealing a dim corridor lit only by red emergency lights.

  Nia cut in with a crooked smile. “Classic setup. Long walk into the lion’s den.”

  I shrugged “It wasn’t that bad, I only ran into one group.”

  The walkway hugged the tram rail, narrow enough I had to keep one shoulder brushing the wall. Emergency lights pulsed every twenty meters, red shadows stretching across my visor.

  I followed the walkway for a long time until I a noise up ahead.

  Voices I soon realized—low and urgent. I crouched, slid off the walkway, and ducked beneath it. From there, I watched.

  Three Gerralians moved down the walkway. A black lab with a patchy coat led them, rifle slung tight. Behind him, a cocker-spaniel mix woman, short but wiry. The third, a lanky coonhound, kept looking over his shoulder, nervous.

  “…be ready to pull out,” the lab muttered.

  The spaniel nodded, but the coonhound’s ears flattened. “Should we really be this far down the terminal? Boss doesn’t wait for stragglers.”

  They froze, exchanged a look. Then—panic. They turned and sprinted back the way they came.

  I pulled my blaster and fired into the supports directly below them. The metal groaned, snapped. A section of the walkway collapsed under their paws, sending the lab tumbling down in front of me.

  The coonhound’s voice cracked. “What was that?!”

  I didn’t answer and fired shot at the lab. His shield flared, dispersing the bolt. He roared, “We got company!”

  No time to hesitate. I stowed the blaster, yanked my combat knife out of its sheath, and lunged. He hadn’t expected close quarters. The blade drove up through his chin and into his skull. His body went limp before I pulled free.

  The spaniel shrieked. “Aaron!”

  I spun and fired three quick shots. Her shield took two before the third ripped into her shoulder. She crumpled with a scream.

  The coonhound vaulted down, rifle blazing as he did so. His bolts hit harder than a standard hand blaster, rapidly heating my shield and pushing it to its limit. Warning sirens flared in my helmet. I couldn’t hold position. So instead I fell back on tested tactics and rushed him.

  I slammed a shoulder into his chest, knocking him flat. He scrambled for the rifle, but I jammed my blaster past his shield and pulled the trigger. Blasting a hole directly to the head.

  When I looked up, the spaniel was still alive—backed against the wall up on the railing, eyes wide in horror.

  I climbed up slowly, crouching in front of her. She flinched away.

  “What had your group spooked?” I asked.

  She clamped her muzzle shut.

  My voice dropped. “I’m not above sticking a finger in your hole.”

  “Wait wait wait. Which hole?” Ratchet asked with concern, interrupting me. Near him both Nia and Emerald were sending me a look of disgust.

  I looked at them in confusion “What do you mean which hole? Obviously the bullet hole, what other hol… Oh.” I felt my face heat up at the implication.

  This reaction sent Nia and Ratchet into fits of hysteria while Emerald looked like she was suffering second hand embarrassment.

  Emerald rubbed the side of her head under each ear. “Evan, you should probably clarify which hole, because to that woman it probably sounded like you threatened to assault her.”

  Stopping while I was behind I simply nodded and went back to my recounting of events.

  The woman’s face twisted in fear. “We were hurrying back to the western bay. Boss is going to turn this whole station into a debris field once he finds what he’s looking for. We just… we were ordered to make sure no one came from the terminal.”

  My stomach dropped. Detonating an entire station? Thousands of civilians onboard.

  I turned to leave, but her voice cracked behind me. “WAIT! Don’t leave me here. I don’t wanna die.”

  I glanced back. “You realize I’m going to collect your bounty if I bring you with me.”

  Tears welled in her eyes. “Yes. Just… please.”

  She was small, maybe ninety pounds. I checked her for weapons, then hauled her up by her shirt and slung her over my shoulder. “Try anything, and I throw you over the railing.”

  She hastily nodded.

  Nia whistled softly, tail curling. “Cold. I like it.”

  Ratchet frowned, though. “You sure dragging her along wasn’t reckless?”

  I shrugged “Money’s money.”

  Emerald’s tone was even, but her claws tapped once against the armrest. “And you believed her about the bomb?”

  I nodded “What little skepticism I had was washed away when I saw her panic at the prospect of being left behind."

  By the time I made it back to the eastern bay, my nerves were raw. I slammed my fist against the viewport until one of the guards opened it. I shoved inside, barking through my helmet.

  “You need to call the chief. Tell him to evacuate the station. The Reavers have some sort of bomb and plan to blow up the station.”

  The German Shepherd’s eyes went wide. He whipped out his comm-pad, tried to call the chief—nothing. He shared a look with the other guard, grim. “We’ll find him. If we can’t, I’ll call the evac myself.”

  I only nodded. “No offense, but I’ll take my payday and leave.” I said eager to get off the station.

  The guard gave me a nervous smile. “No offense to you, hunter, but your appearance wont exactly calm civilians to begin with.”

  Emerald snorted as I recounted that conversation. “Harsh. But fair. At least you saw staying on the station was pointless after you informed the security.”

  I nodded but frowned as I remembered what happened next.

  Seeing no one else was interjecting I continued. “With that conversation done I carried the Spaniel back to my fighter. I bound her hands and feet before throwing her into the compartment behind my seat.”

  “On top of the battery? I thought you weren’t trying to kill her.” Ratchet interrupted.

  I shot him an annoyed look then shook my head. “The battery I was using at that time was a smaller one and didn’t need to be placed in an unconventional spot. Anyway I gave her two rules—stay quiet and don’t test the bindings.”

  I paused, taking a deep breath through my nose. “Leaving the bay, I actually felt… proud. I’d saved lives, snagged a bounty, and stopped at least some of their plan. For a moment it made me forget about the my fight with Simmy.

  “Simmy?” Emerald’s gaze hardened with a look I couldn’t quite place.

  “My mentor.” I explained briefly.

  My pride didn’t last long. The Alis shuddered as I cleared the docking lane, stars scattering across my canopy as I cleared the station and charted my course on the nav-console. I exhaled, tension easing.

  That’s when I heard a distinct beep.

  A violent flash bloomed behind me, flooding the cockpit with light. My controls locked. For a heartbeat, I thought I’d taken a hit. But when the instruments recovered and I twisted the Alis around… only to find the station was gone.

  Not damaged. Not crippled. Gone.

  A gaping wound of fire and debris hung where the colony had been, pieces of habitat rings spiraling outward, scattering bodies and ships alike into the void. Thousands of lives—miners, workers, guards, families—snuffed out in a single moment.

  I whipped around to look at my bound passenger only to see her grinning madly up at me her hand pressed firmly against what appeared to be a watch. My throat tightened until bile burned my tongue.

  “Surprised? What did you think we were even doing in those tunnels.” She taunted.

  Part of me wanted kill her then and there, but I had to ask. “Why, what did that even accomplish? You still had people there!”

  “I just built generational wealth with the push of a button! Rusty takes care the people who get results and he knows who had the detonator. My family’s gunna live large for decades off the money we get from this operation. So, thanks for that. Hell, they’ll have enough money to pay off the governor of whatever Penal colony I end up on.” I continued to look down on the bound woman before wordlessly pulling out my blaster. I saw confusion dawn on her face. “W….” She didn’t get a word in before I pulled the trigger. It was the first time I’d ever executed someone.

  Ratchet shifted uneasily, the usual spark in his voice gone. “Shit.”

  I nodded grimly. “I’m responsible for every person lost on that station, because I showed mercy to a reaver. I don’t know how long I sat there looking at the field of debris but I do know that was when I promised myself that she would be the last Reaver I ever took alive.”

  Nia’s voice cut in, light but edged. “That’s a hell of a vow.”

  I met her eyes. “One I’ve kept.”

  Emerald tilted her head, eyes narrowing. “And that’s why you pushed so hard against me earlier. Why outright disobeyed an order.”

  I leaned forward, elbows on my knees, tone sharp. “Emerald, the Reavers don’t play by the rules the way Outcasts or Marauders do. They don’t stop at tribute. They don’t stop at raiding supply lines. They burn stations. They glass cities. They detonate entire colonies. And then they laugh about it and move on to their next hit.”

  Ratchet frowned, ears tilting back. “But you can’t carry that weight into every engagement. If we break formation every time, if we all ignore orders—”

  “I know!” I snapped, then lowered my voice, softer. “I know. But Emerald asked why I pressed the point. That’s why.”

  Emerald tapped a claw against the armrest, deep in thought. Her voice softened, though it still carried iron. “I get it now. But you’re not alone anymore. When you break formation, you risk more than yourself—you risk us. You risk the Hounds.”

  For a long moment, silence hung heavy. Then I nodded once. “I know and, I’m sorry.”

  Emerald studied me for a moment. “So you think letting that Argonaut escape is going to lead to another massacre.”

  “I know it will,” I replied, my voice low. “It’s just a matter of when.”

  Emerald leaned forward, her expression somewhere between stern captain and reluctant ally. “You’ve made your point, Evan. And I’ll keep it in mind. But remember—out here, trust in the squad is what keeps you breathing. If you go rogue again, this conversation will be much less pleasant."

  I met her stare looking her dead in the eyes before responding. “Then I’ll just have to make sure we’re on the same page next time.”

  Emerald’s muzzle twitched into the faintest smile. “Good.”