The Furiban Job

Prexis Minor

Karaban despised traveling this far outside of Federation Space. Planets looked half-finished out here, and the denizens tried their hardest to imitate that feeling. Prexis Minor was no different. The dusty brownish red plains stretched out for as far as the eye could see with barely even a hill to break up the monotony of the horizon. Flora seemed more like a luxury than a requirement for life here and it was pretty clear the Fauna agreed. The only living thing Karaban actually encountered on his walk from the port to his rendezvous was the occasional drunken vagabond wandering from street to streets like the royal guard of some long-abandoned kingdom, searching for a taste of their past glory. He did see a Voro-Hound but wasn’t entirely sure if it was taking in enough oxygen to be considered a living thing. The smell of hull rot was oddly persistent, maybe someone was cooking juice. Wouldn’t be hard to get away with this far out of regulated space.

After a couple more minutes of detesting the scenery, Karaban strolled through the broken sliding doors of the grimiest looking crawl hub in town. Typical Thraxian, picking the most inhospitable pit on the planet to meet up, Karaban thought. As he entered the bar, a rolling cloud of assorted scents assaulted Karaban’s nose the most prominent of which was a mixture of fermented puddle water and the acute waft of decaying metal. There were no more than five people in the bar: two Humans, two Gel-Naga, and a Thraxian. One of the humans, presumably the owner, was watching the other human vomit the contents of his stomach into a booth close to the corner of the room. After reaching a gut-churning climax, he moved on to the next booth and started the process over again. The bartender looked on in mundane disappointment. As for the two Gel-Naga, they sat hunched over like parents shielding their young from the elements. Every second or two their smoothed down scales would raise in a cascading wave across their slick bodies, followed by a quick jerk of the head and a flap of the gills. Their eyes were cross-shaped and seemed to spin whenever they caught Karaban in their glare.

The Target stuck out like a sore thumb sitting in a booth too small for him against the back wall of the bar. His massive reptilian frame extended above the low-hanging flame centered on the booth. The only thing visible was the bed of spikes protruding from his chest and the tip of a tail lounging gingerly on the table. Karaban stared at the body of the Thraxian for what felt like ages until he gave a light flick of his center finger signaling for Karaban’s approach. The few patrons scattered across the dimly lit bar were all staring at Karaban by now, eyeing him from head to toe then back to admiring the half-melted roof tiles. Most of these street rats have probably never seen threads this nice, so Karaban didn’t blame them for staring. He only hoped that they didn’t let envy get the better of them because he really wasn’t in the mood for wasting ammunition.

As he arrived at the booth, both men were waiting for the other to make a move but neither party did. Karaban slid into the seat across bumping knees with the Thraxian along the way. The reptilian didn’t seem to notice as he continued his nonverbal battle for dominance. Still unable to even see the creature's face, Karaban got sick of waiting and made the first move.

“Thanks for responding on such short notice. My Employer has gotten picky about who I work with lately.”

He wasn’t really that thankful. There were plenty of better hunters in this sector but this one was the only one to respond.

The Thraxian leaned into the light revealing some kind of false smile plastered across his face, showing off every precious fang dangling from his jawline. After a few more seconds of stagnant air came and went, a low raspy growl began to roll out the slender jaw of the serpent, bouncing off its flickering tongue. The sound was almost hypnotic if not for the fact that it could have been the last sound Karaban ever heard.

“What’s the job,” the Thraxian finally said.

Karaban let out a sign and slid his Datatrac across the table.

“Triple star risk. Quad star pay. Quick job, should be done in a rotation or two,” Karaban said “Vacuum snatch-and-grab off a prison ship in transit. Cargo’s gotta make it back alive”

“Obviously. What’s the catch?”

“Federation Shadow Transit. Could get pretty hot if we don’t do it right”

For the first time in their exchange, the Thraxian looked displeased.

“Ugh, Federation transit. Why not just blow the thing to smithereens and call it a day”

“Sorry Boss was explicit, kids gotta make it back intact. Bad enough to pay us half upfront and double if he makes it back unharmed.”

This pulled the Thraxian right back in. Typical hunter mentality. He looked off into the bar for a second, grimacing at the décor as if it were his first time seeing the room.

“Alright fine,” The Thraxian Hissed “But you’re grabbing the kid yourself.”

“Fine by me,” Karaban said as he reached his hand out to take back his Datatrac “What am I supposed to call you anyways?”

The Thraxian lunged forward and squeezed Karaban’s hand before he could pick up the thin sheet of metal and glass.

“Call me Gex”

***

As they walked back to the ship, Karaban struggled to come to terms with the events of the past 24 hours. He had been partying the night before to celebrate his retirement from Feirdali Jeshar. It cost him a partner and all the credits he had on hand, but he had his ship and he was free to do as he pleased. He had been partying alone but it was better than partying with criminals. So when a comm request marked with the urgency code “Triple Helix” appeared on his screen, no amount of hangover suppressants could get him in a speaking mood. When he cleaned himself up enough to answer his comm system was bombarded by an unhealthy amount of organized static. This was Feirdali’s calling card, they claimed it disabled any recording devices.

On the other side of the reflected glass stood the solemn frame of Don Vitro. His posture was immaculate as always, his chest pushed forward to draw attention away from his lower half. His facial features looked deliberately carved in, with lines that would mark another as old only made him look even more timeless. His facial hair was groomed so carefully most would think it was fake. He posed like a statue for what felt like minutes knowing that Karaban would not say a word about it. To speak before a Don spoke was considered a sin on par with killing a member of Feirdali Jeshar, or selling out a comrade. When the Don spoke his voice sounded like glass rubbing against sandpaper to Karaban’s disoriented senses.

“Karaban…I see you're enjoying your retirement already.”

Karaban noticed he had been slouching, jutted his chest out and his shoulders back to mimic the Don’s posture.

“Yes, I-I’ve been trying to relax but life after Feirdali isn’t exactly the same.”

“Keep trying, you look like shit.”

Karaban was struggling to keep a straight face. The Don knew how to break people down. He took great pleasure in making others miserable and to show any form of weakness was to open yourself up to endless belittling.

“But I didn’t wait two hours to insult you, I call to present you a choice.”

Karabans heart sank.

“Your late partner has brought to our attention that you sold information about my son’s illicit activates to the Federation. I found it strange that you were able to acquire the funds needed to retire the same cycle as my son getting arrested. I now present your options. Rescue my son and return him unharmed. Upon delivery, you will resume your indentured servitude to pay off your newly accrued debt or you can run and never show your face in a civilized system ever again.”

Karaban spiked his gaze to the floor. He couldn’t help but tremble.

“Don Vitro, Skalizar was ruled insane by the upper council. Plus he died on our last job how could he have told you a lie like this.”

The Don smirked and shifted his weight to reveal a bloodied Thraxian strapped to a chair. The shattered visage of his former partner sat in a puddle of his own fluids, glaring at the screen.

“You may be a qualified mercenary, but you’re an awful liar Karab-“

“GO FUCK YOURSELF KARABAN” Skalizar screeched.

He tried to say something else but the muzzle of the Don’s gold-plated pistol was already in his mouth. Without batting an eye the Thraxian's reinforced skull was in fragments against the wall. The Don grimaced at the mess he had just made.

NEVER INTERUPT A DON, HELLSPAWN,” He returned his attention to Karaban. “Hopefully you remember the creed you swore to better than he did.”

With that, the screen went blank and Karaban Collapsed to the floor, tears rolling down his face.

***

Karaban was already beginning to regret meeting his newly found business partner. Gex located the Kitchen onboard Karaban’s ship with shocking speed and devoured any trace of meat as if he were trying to destroy evidence for some heinous crime and the authorities were at his door. There was a certain musk that seemed to accompany him. It smelled like a pungent mix of wet Volo-Hound and burning wood. The smell never left his side but always seemed to linger wherever he sat. Karaban knew it would take weeks to get the odor out of his quarters and even longer to get it out of his brain. Gex didn’t seem to care much for learning the plan he agreed to be a part of, only saying “Wake me when it’s time to tango.” Currently, he could be found sprawled out along the two meditation cushions set up in the main living quarter. Karaban made a mental note to never hire a Thraxian again after this job. It was nice having someone on the ship again though.

To distract himself from insulting Gex anymore, Karaban returned to examining the prison transport they were going to be cracking open in a few hours. A standard Lucritec-class transport vessel could carry about 500 prisoners at a time but since this one has been modified it could only hold about half that. The convicts are currently caged precariously over a one-way exit into the vacuum of space suspended by a single reinforced cable. All it would take for our kid to get ejected is the push of a button and the wave of a stunbat. Lucky for Karaban, Don Vitro was nice enough to provide a man on the inside. According to Jeshar Intel, they had a Feirdali Jeshar loyal guard in his cage block willing to help with the breakout on the condition that he be rescued alongside the kid. It was clarified to Karaban in subsequent messages that his top priority was the kid and only the kid. The guard did manage to bug the cockpit so at least he’s trying to make a compelling argument for salvation. Pebbles next to the boulder that was failing to bring back the kid alive, unfortunately.

To make this job as clean as possible both the artificial gravity and the prisoner cage controls need to be turned off at the same time. Fortunately, these were bother being controlled in the same room and the fastest way to get there from space was blowing a tidy little hole from the outside. The only problem is the explosives needed to be placed in such a manner as to not destroy the control console entirely. From there, coupled with the information provided by the guard, another hole could be made right where the kid was being held. Finally, the three fly back to Karaban’s transport, meet at the rendezvous, and collect their reward.

Karaban brought up the all too familiar profile of their target. He looked no more than fifteen and somehow was being sent to Toyashi Station, one of the few Federation black sites that exist outside of any known record. Karaban never told The Federation that he was criminal royalty so why was he being taken to the closest thing to a legal gulag in the galaxy. There was a rumor that these types of places try and break down prisoners as fast as possible so there’s no chance of getting this kid out once he’s in there.

Gex finally awoke, announcing his return to consciousness with a crescendo of popping from his joints. He stumbled into the command deck and immediately began sniffing the air.

“You already cleared out the kitchen what more do you want,” Karaban said.

“I smell…Uncertainty,” Gex said “Are you having second thoughts?”

“No,”

The word hung in the air for a second convincing neither of them of its authenticity.

“You hold animosity to my kind, why choose me for this job?”

Karaban went blank for a second, twitched his check, and mumbled.

“You were the only one to respond to my cry for help. Who cares anyway it’s too late to turn back now. Get ready were arriving in ten.”

Gex gave an appreciative flick of the tongue and patted Karaban on the shoulder as he walked past him.

The two hurried into their environmental suits (Karaban was thankful Gex had provided his own) and stocked up on whatever weapons were lying around. Karaban handed Gex a handful of explosives and told him to place them at the marked designators and wait for his signal. The Thraxian juggled the semicircles around in his hands mesmerized by the luminous fireballs he was about to create.

Karaban hurried to the main console activating the primary stealth drive and checked to see if the strider was ready to go. There nestled gently against the airlock door was a three-man craft just big enough to fit in the cargo hold without scraping against the walls. The craft was only about a meter or two tall with just enough room to cram three bodies in coffin-style. It was a sleek solar black with a coating of speckles to mimic stars. It had been given to Karaban by Feirdali Jeshar A few jobs ago for a stealth operation. Karaban didn’t recognize the design and just assumed it was one of the unreleased models from a few years back.

The ship lurched suddenly as the engines yanked back into a passive state, signaling their arrival with a dull ding.

Furiban System 1 hour away from Toyashi station

“Gex get down here it’s time to go,” Karaban said over the comm system in his suit.

“Coming,” Gex said as his noisy claws prickled against the steel hull. Hearing the noise over the comms was bad enough but even outside his helmet, Karaban could hear the exposed talons rap their way down the corridor making the sound inescapable.

Once inside the strider both latched themselves in and with the flick of a couple of switches they were drifting out in the vast expanse. In the distance was Furiban, a notorious gas giant that’s gravity pulled in anything nearby. This wasn’t the case for Toyashi Station which seemed tucked safely behind the massive festering cluster of hot fumes. Closer to them was the Lucritec freighter bobbing and weaving along the narrow gravity markers placed to guide them to their destination safely. The freighter wasn’t fast but it was dipping closer and closer to the background with each passing second.

Karaban gunned it toward the unsuspecting transport surprised by how quick the strider could move. They made quick work closing the distance between them and their target. As they approached, Karaban realized he had forgotten to engage the strider's stealth drive. He quickly scurried to find the button struggling for several arduous seconds. Lucky for him the Federation attendant in charge of scans was getting yelled at for improper use of Federation property.

After looping around the freighter a couple of times Karaban settled in on one of the ship's many curves. A few more taps on the frontal screen and a message was sent to the guard. Gex started fidgeting and eventually settled into listening to the audio coming from the cockpit. There was absolute silence aside from the sound of paper crinkling. Both men looked at the speaker, faces racked with confusion. Gex raised his fist to tap it but before he could make contact a series of gravelly coughs sprang out of the speakers.

“Ah so they're having about as much fun as we are,” Gex said.

Karaban didn’t even bother giving him the pleasure of a reaction. He was able to move past the remark because he was finally able to get a response from the guard. A large orange X appeared on the diagram for the transport.

“Finally,” said Gex hand already on the strider's hatch door.

With a loud hiss, what little air was left in the craft saw its way out. Gex scuttled rapidly along the surface of the ship digging his claws into the hull of his metallic prey. Karaban banked wide and made his way to the large X on his screen and floated out into the vacuum. Karaban wasn’t insane and opted to attach a cable from himself to the strider. He used his suit's air jets to glide across the ship's surface creating a halo around the X. Both men gave their ready checks and Karaban was prepared to activate his detonator when Gex said wait. Karaban got worried and asked what was wrong only to be told to listen. Karaban turned up the volume on the cockpit auto to hear the pilots talking about what the procedure for a ship getting boarded was.

“Hehe watch this,” Gex said. Karaban could feel his devilish grin looming over the two unsuspecting souls.

One of the pilots was clearly nervous and Gex wasn’t trying to make him feel any better.

The Older pilot was speaking now. “But that’s not going to happen. We are less than an hour from landing, nobody in the galaxy is stupid enough to attac-”

With that as his cue, Gex set off his charges. Karaban could feel the ship rock and waited for the all-clear. After a few tense seconds, Gex made some comments about bodies and said Karaban was good to go.

Clutching to the side of the transport Karaban counted down from five but pressed the detonator at two. A ring of hot steel slumped away from the hull leading to a typhoon of debris following in its wake. As the last of the metal and bodies was yanked out, Karaban brought the strider up against the hull and made his way in. the innards of the ship were in utter chaos as masses of freed convicts swarmed their once captor. All the cages were empty except for the one closest to him. Inside was a tiny red-headed boy wearing a baggy prison jumper. Tears were rolling off his face, getting sucked away from him toward Karaban. With a few quick thrusts, Karaban had made it to the boy and was yanking him from the bars. The kid’s eyes were shut tight so it took a good few smacks to get him to let go. Finally, the kid relented saying his final goodbyes to this world as his savior dragged him closer to the strider. One final shove sealed the boy’s fate as he entered the strider and was forcibly locked in place. Karaban took one last look at the carnage he had caused noticing a particularly mournful guard being mobbed by prisoners. He was reaching his hand out to Karaban but all he could offer in return was a shrug as he reentered the strider and strapped himself in. The last thing he saw from the guard was him grabbing his radio and barking out something before being swarmed by the weightless prisoners.

The kid was still screaming as oxygen returned to his lungs eventually making him too dizzy to yell. The kid looked around and a smile slowly began to creep up his face.

“Haha I knew dad wouldn’t just leave me to die like that,” the kid said with a startling amount of malice behind it “Those guards definitely had it coming.”

Karaban signaled Gex it was time to go and quickly made his way to the other side of the ship. As the strider pulled away from the hole, there was a brief flash followed by a glistening trail. The tell-tail indicator of plasma rounds being fired. Karaban turned his head to find prison guards adorned in environmental suits pouring out of the gash in the ship. They were moving fairly slow with the minimal thrust provided by the environmental suits, but their shots were getting dangerously close to the strider. Karaban flooded the engines in a desperate attempt to reach Gex.

“Partner im gonna need a little cover before I can pick you up.”

Gex was bouncing from corpse to corpse taking whatever metals or insignias he could pull off. Once the strider was in his sights he thrusted off the body he was searching and landed within striking distance of the strider. Noticing the cluster of angry jailers getting ever closer, Gex opted to overshoot the strider. As he flung deeper into the clutches of open space, he began to unleash a semi-accurate barrage of kinetic rounds into the tight pairing of guards. The bursting of one oxygen tank set off two more exploding until all the guards had been scattered into the cosmos. Karaban wondered if this was even his first time doing something like this. For a second he could see a wide smile across Gex’s face as he opened up the hatch. Once inside, Gex shoved his way past the kids squeezing into the middle seat. The kid did not appreciate this.

“What’s the big idea scaleskin? I’m the one you’re not supposed to touch here. Don’t you know who I am?”

All traces of happiness had left Gex’s face with that remark and a profound annoyance was taking its place. Karaban was reaching to calm the two down but it was too late.

Gex lifted his arm and leveled his elbow with the oblivious kid’s chin.

“I’m Don Vitro’s so-” were the last words he could make out before the elbow connected. The kid was out cold but his jaw was definitely broken

Karaban let out a heavy sigh and said “You know who that was right.”

“The son of one of the most powerful dons of one of the most powerful gangs in Tera Galactus correct?”

Karaban was shocked that Gex actually provided the right answer

“I read the mission assignment and searched the ship for any useful information pertaining to the job. You’re in quite the dilemma my friend.”

Karaban thought back to the recording from earlier that he didn’t have time to delete.

“If you knew all that why would you get more involved in something like this?”

Gex shrugged. “You looked like you needed a partner in crime. Prexis was getting too safe for my liking anyways.”

Karaban couldn’t help but laugh at this reason and was far too tired to argue with him. Karaban thought for a moment and knew that a debt like the one he had just accrued would be much easier to get rid of with two people working on it. He looked over at Gex who was slapping the kid in the face with his own hand. Gex was pretty reliable for a Thraxian.

“Fine...partner”

Gex smirked with pride and turned to look as the flaming transport hurdled itself into the gas giant, chunks eclipsing the prison in the distance.