Hunter's Legacy: Cause

By Jason Earl Kooi

"The demonic howls continued reverberating inside the sphere. The shrill sounds kept raising and lowering in pitch, as though there were more than one kind of animal within that filmy fog. Each time the thing inside the dome roared, the different tones slowly began modifying themselves into one piercing bellow, slicing through the air.

"Hunter grimly whispered, 'Don't watch. This is the part where something really bad happens.' "

On the eve of final exams, the remarkably young, yet remarkably talented Hunter is sent out to the uncivilized ends of the universe to disarm an up-and-coming terrorist organization. In the midst of his absence, an unknown alien species descends upon the Universally-Credited Tactics Academy, the most advanced center for training in interstellar warfare, industrial espionage, and technological sciences.

In the space of a single night, this hostile force takes control of the galaxy's best kept military secrets. When these creatures uncover information surrounding the source of Hunter's strength, they stop at nothing to destroy him. Before Hunter can face this new threat, though, he must come to terms with a secret buried deep inside him; a secret that could lead to the destruction of everything and everyone Hunter holds dear.

• Language: English
• Publisher: iUniverse
• Release date: Dec 5, 2008
• ISBN: 9780595629602

Jason Earl Kooi

Jason E. Kooi was raised in Albuquerque, New Mexico, and received his B.S. in Physics and Mathematics from New Mexico Tech and is currently seeking his Master's in Math Analysis. He has developed a passion for storytelling, science, and martial arts and skillfully blends these three loves in his fiction.

Book preview

Chapter 1

Do you think it is still there? I mean, you don’t think it’s gotten off to some other place do you, ca-cause I mean, well, you know …

No, it’s still over there. There’s no way it could get out.

You sure?

Positive.

The two men stood completely still in the classic two-man squat. The shorter of the pair was crouching deeply, beads of sweat trickling down his forehead. His knees were beginning to ache under the pressure his body exerted upon them. The taller crouched slightly higher so that he could peer over the other’s shoulder. Despite the cold air slowly brushing over them from what little ventilation the building had, they both wore masks of sweat.

They stared down into the deep darkness that was the hallway. The only illumination within this area was the cold blue light emitted from the men’s flashlights. No electricity was there to feed the fluorescent lights, some of which were hanging overhead from their own wires while others were strewn across the floor. The beam from the flashlights occasionally reflected off one of the many shards of glass.

The cool, metallic walls seemed at once closing in and extending out into eternity to these two men. The only distance that seemed definite to them was the sliding door positioned behind them. This door was the only means by which to enter or escape this hall.

The shorter of the two shifted his weight. An audible squeak signaled this as the meta-rubber of his suit brushed up against his leather boots. It didn’t matter to them how cool the air was around them. The closely stitched fibers of silk as well as the metallic substitute for rubber of their jumpsuits prevented any loss of bodily heat. This, however, did not cause the sweat that continued to trace lines down their faces. It was caused by fear.

Well, I-I’m as ready as I’ll ever be, whispered the shorter of the two. He felt his cheeks begin to flush as he felt the need to go to the bathroom.

Then let’s move in, responded the taller. They both stood up and began to move slowly down the dark hall. The taller edged over to the shorter’s side so that anything that wanted to get past them and to the door would have to tear through them. They both pressed the safety locks aside and peered carefully down the barrels of their Cali4590’s. They fixed the flooding blue light of their flashlights to the barrels, the shorter aiming low and the taller aiming high to maintain the maximum level of light in the hall. The conical barrels began emitting a mild red glow as each man switched the weapon’s firing option from rapid fire to charged shot.

As they quietly proceeded down the endless hall, the taller flicked on his radio link: This is the Green Team. We sighted the creature and have followed it into hallway … C-9. We are now in pursuit. There seems to be no way out but the way we came in. Over.

~       ~       ~

He was running. He was running as fast as he could down the shadowy halls and through the darkened rooms. He pumped his legs and his arms equally hard as he sped along. He shot his hand into the holster surrounding his hip and it emerged gripping his Magnum .76. His index finger found its way into the trigger guard and preemptively covered the trigger. He ran even faster, through the doorways and over the broken glass of the lighting fixtures. He knew something they didn’t.

~       ~       ~

Sir, Green Team just reported their current position. They have it in sight and are now taking it down, yelled the communications officer to a man standing by a u-shaped desk in the middle of the two-story room.

The man at the desk whirled around and went over to the officer who had just spoken. Excellent, now we can bag this sucker and go home. Where were they, did they say?

Uh, C-9 hall, sir.

The man’s head tilted to one side as his body went numb.

What’s wrong, sir? asked the communications officer.

Blue Team, punch in the coordinates of C-9 hall. Fast.

A woman hunched over the green glow of a small computer at the desk began rapidly tapping the keys and speaking to it: Sector 1 … Area 34 … Room C-9.

Strings of code quickly flew across the screen as she spoke these words. In a moment, the codes mutated into a clear picture, a three-dimensional schematic of the level on which they were currently positioned. Then the picture began to move as it traced from their position to the supposed position of the hostile. It only took a second.

Sir, C-9 is connected to the room over there, she pointed a gloved finger at the darkened room on the upper floor.

Those men were mistaken. The thing does have an exit, yelled the commanding officer. Blue Team, pack up and retreat two rooms south. Ted, order Red Team to move up to our current position. Ted?

The commander turned to look behind him. The communications officer wasn’t next to the portable radio station. The communications officer was scattered, here and there, upon the now glistening floor.

Get down, Jane, said the commander sternly as he readied his Manot90. The lady behind the desk nervously looked around as she crouched down inside the curve of the desk. The commander lightly walked towards the desk. He carefully glanced around the dim room, training his gun wherever his eyes were aimed. The commander’s sight systematically examined the room. A small gust of wind circulated through the place. He shivered.

~       ~       ~

He ceased running. He was just outside of the room where he knew it would be. No, where he knew it was now. He examined the heat sensor on his wrist that gave a digital display of what was within the next room. He saw the cool outline of the desk that housed someone underneath. Another trace of heat registered—a man crossing the room towards the desk.

He gripped Magnum .76 in his right hand as he prepared to push the button that would open the door separating the two rooms and he thought, Too bad that thing doesn’t emit heat.

~       ~       ~

The commander reached the desk. Looking around one last time, he holstered his weapon and whispered to the girl hiding underneath the desk, Don’t worry. I think it’s headed on out.

As he said this, she saw a flash of black against the darkness of the room. This movement quickly directed itself towards the commander and, with a barely audible whoosh, the commander’s head fell cleanly to the floor. A look of terror, pain, and confusion were fixed within his eyes. She screamed.

The swirl of darkness swiftly darted around the desk and, in a characteristic quietness, it leapt on top of the wooden desk. It sat there for a moment, all of its eyes narrowing upon the woman huddled under the desk. It was hard to make out in the dark, except where the hazy light of the computer caught its eyes and its teeth. The slick teeth slowly gnashed up and down, with a grating sound that made her shiver. It then began to lower in stature partly as it poised itself to pounce.

As it made ready to leap for her, the desk that supported it disappeared in a shower of flame, sparks, and splinters. The woman shielded herself from the wooden debris as she watched it fall lopsided onto the cold tile floor. It wallowed around for a moment as it noticed it was spouting cool, blue blood where one of its claws once was.

Despite this injury, it somersaulted into the air and lit upon the desk right above the woman. She fell back in shock as she saw it raise a claw into the air. As she began to sink into fear, she heard a sliding noise and felt a sudden pressure at her shoulder. She looked over to see a teenage boy lying right next to her, smiling.

Pardon me, he said as he aimed a peculiar looking gun up to the creature and fired. A bright green orb shot out of the gun and ensnared the beast above her, forcing it against the wall across the room. It fell to the floor hard, smoldering in the darkness.

The boy leaped onto his feet as gracefully as the creature had once moved and calmly walked over to it. Standing over the thing, he steadied his gun above its head and whispered something. Presently, a second, smaller green orb reduced the creature to cinders. The boy then holstered his gun and proceeded to walk to the exit of the building.

Chapter 2

The sky appeared as a deep purple, rich with the colors of red and gray swirling around inside it. Here and there a dark, pumice-shaded cloud of gas inhabited this sky, its great size blocking the light coming from the binary stars that warmed this planet. The only visible assurance that the two stars were still up within the heavens was the silver-brown lining they traced around the clouds in front of them. Thunder bellowed among these mighty columns of gas, followed closely by the onslaught of torrential acid rains. This moisture fell to the black, barren ground and did little to help support life. Any plants and animals that could be found foraging along the surface were foreign and had been transplanted here long ago. These creatures had to seek shelter from the hot, concentrated drops of rain amid the vast avenue of buildings comprising the city. These buildings had been deserted by their inhabitants when the official alarm came that there was a hostile entity lurking amid the local library system. This system was simply several structures connected by sewers.

As with most operations carried out by the policing forces of such societies, the creature was dispatched with as quickly as possible to allow the citizens waiting in orbit to return to their homes on this barely charted planet. The police had even decided to let some undergraduates from the Universally-Credited Tactics Academy tag along as well. To put it in the words of the police force’s late commander: We’ll show them the ropes, let them get a feel for how things are done. Needless to say, the commander’s skills of estimating the hired students’ abilities were rather poor.

The entrance to the library (a sliding plasticant door firmly jammed open) was busy with activity. Officers decked out in their blue meta-rubber suits scurried in and out, pulling out their equipment as hastily as possible before the citizens of the planet would complete their reentry of the dense atmosphere. Communication devices were awkwardly carried out into the courtyard in front of the library where they were cautiously loaded onto the magnetic floatation carts, ready to be boarded onto the dropships surrounding the complex. Large cases (that had remained unopened during this mission) containing ammunition and heavy assault rifles were quickly dragged out of the gloomy building and hoisted onto the carts. Among the hustle and bustle of this chaos, a figure emerged from the now operating plasticant doors.

This boy slowly walked over to one of the many concrete slabs doubling as a bench and quietly sat down. Rubbing the sides of his strong neck, his glance followed his legs down to his boots. He wiggled his legs about, grimacing at the scratchy feeling caused by the standard police-issue flak suit. Not wanting to provoke the strange feeling again, he shifted his attention and started kicking the heel of his black boot with the toe of the other boot.

Hey, kid. You look strong enough. Why don’cha get your lazy butt in gear and ’elp us with loadin’ this here stuff? The teenager turned his head slowly to his left to see where the gruff voice had come from. A dirty, soot-colored engineer stood there in even dirtier coveralls. The big man, grasping one handle of the artillery storage unit, continued, ’ey. What’s the matter? You deaf or somethin’?

The teenager smiled and shook his head in reply, which seemed to bewilder the man.

’ey. What’s wrong with you? Gonna ’elp me out or not?

The boy sat up and smiled, My contract is up. I have no legal obligation to clean up after this operation.

Grumbling, the man began to turn his back and prepared to board the luggage alone. The bulky man then started forward. He expected to have to pull with all of his strength, but was surprised to realize how lightly the case glided along the ground, almost as if it wasn’t touching the ground. He looked back for a second and saw the young boy straddling the load, both hands gripping tightly to the handle at his end, and calmly following the man’s pace.

A bit surprised, the man said, Guess you’re not one of those snobby little school kids, eh?

Laughing the boy replied, Oh, I am. We just have varying degrees of snobbishness at our school. I haven’t graduated yet.

Ha, a wise one are you? asked the man as he slowed his gait to position the case onto the floatation cart.

You noticed, huh? said the boy as he let his grasp of the storage unit slacken to allow it to drop onto the cart. The greasy man walked around the side of the cart and began to enter a string of code into the command console. The cart hummed to life and bobbed up above the cracked concrete walkway. Finishing with the keystrokes, the man and boy watched as the cart sluggishly found its way to the open portal of the dropship through its magnetic pulse array.

The kid glanced at the gritty sky, his eyes tracing the paths made by the ships of the returning residents. The older man did the same and warned, Well, better get a move on. I ’eard that those creatures don’t want us ’umans to be ’ere when they get back ’ome.

Oh, it’s something like that, said the boy as they clambered aboard the dropship, along with many other men and women in police garb, "It’s more like they want us to be here, but since the we don’t really want to join them for dinner (as it were), we don’t want us to be here."

I ’eard that! laughed the man, strapping himself into one of the safety pods. Clicking his own belt into place, the boy looked out into the concourse and saw the other officers and engineers out there scuttling about to get off the planet. However, his view was cut off as the bay doors slid shut, sealed, and hissed as the room was pressurized.

Oh yeah, here comes the best part of the whole trip! yelled someone in a pod behind him.

Then how come you vomited last time? came a cynical reply in the seat next to the original voice. Everyone started laughing.

The laughter, though, was cut short by the deep pitfall within everyone’s stomachs as the vehicle shot vertically into the atmosphere. Waiting for the butterflies to flutter away, the teenager glanced about for a window to look out of and then realized the impossibility of that on a police dropship. Instead, he crossed his fingers, closed his eyes, and listened to the amusing conversations around him.

So has anyone here been to Flurinia Base 49? I heard their officers get to sleep for eight hours a day.

Lazy bastards.

Hey, I resent that. I was trained there.

Did you have a father.

A what now?

Case in point!

A few officers began to laugh.

Hey, did anyone see what the target actually was?

Your mom!

Hey! Who said that?

Laughter rose again and then settled down. The boy rolled his eyes and thought, "This is what I get to grow up to be."

Hey, you.

The teenager could tell the person was talking to him, but he fondly opted to ignore it.

I said, ‘HEY, YOU!’

No reply.

Junior over there doesn’t want to talk to the big boys I guess!

More laughter.

The boy slowly opened his eyes and peered up towards the owner of the voice who was sitting across from him: Yes?

Ah, he’s awake after all. Did you have fun on our little excursion? Rumor has it, you wimped out and ran away from your assigned team. What do you say to that?

The kid methodically rolled his head on his shoulders and stared into the officer’s eye. Well, I would say that while everyone else was paralyzed with fear or, ehhm, losing their heads, I was saving the day.

That’s mighty big talk for such a small child.

The hard laughter echoed off the walls and was lost in the boy’s ears.

Hey don’t laugh at ’im, he ’elped me carry one of those artillery cases. That’s no small feat. came the familiar voice of the dirty engineer.

Oh, better watch out! Jim is on the kid’s side! chuckled someone to the boy’s left.

The man across from the boy continued: So what exactly are you doing here? Come to play ‘cops’?

The boy shook his head and smiled, You don’t have any idea of who I am, do you?

And what is that supposed to mean? asked the man.

The teenager’s smile faded away. His intense brown eyes darkened under the fluorescent lights. He just sat there staring down the officer across from him. The man didn’t say a word.

Hey what’s going on over there? asked someone.

I can’t tell, but Bob looks really spooked.

Check it out he’s shivering!

Bob sat there, ever so slightly shuddering under the piercing gaze of the boy. The corner of Bob’s mouth drooped partially. A silence pervaded the room. Then, as calmly as he had begun, the boy unlocked his eyes from Bob and closed them again. I am Hunter, he said while a small smile slipped across his lips as he fell asleep. Bob simply sat there, trying to gain control over the chills running through his spine.

Yo Bob, what happened?

I don’t know, Dan. But I really don’t feel like crossing that guy’s path again.

Whose? The kid’s?

Yeah.

What did he do to you?

I don’t know. Have you ever seen the corpse of someone who has been burned alive?

Oh yeah, you don’t forget those sorts of things.

Well, it was kind of like looking into the eyes of one of those.

~       ~       ~

Caution, this craft is entering the proximity of its host ship. It will soon begin docking procedures. Please remain seated until further instructions are given regarding your departure from this dropship. Repeat, this craft is entering the proximity of its host ship. It will soon begin docking procedures. Please remain seated until further instructions are given regarding your departure. Thank you.

The monotonous, feminine voice of the ship’s computer rang from the front of the ship to the back. As if in response, all officers already secured within their pods began fiddling with the straps crossing their shoulders. Once they were moderately satisfied with the tightness of those locks, each person double-checked the stability of their lap and leg harnesses.

Like we really have a choice as to whether or not we are seated during docking, an officer sarcastically pointed out.

Well, you never know. One of those belts could somehow loosen itself and put you into a potentially hazardous situation. replied a man along the wall.

Yeah, we wouldn’t want you to fall out! chimed in another.

This provoked part of the group of people to laugh as the walls encasing them bellowed with the hum of electromagnetic fields. The sides of the craft almost seemed to expand a bit as the dropship glided into a larger ship. "Boy, I hope that when they depressurize this room, they do it slowly," somebody nervously remarked. The humming ceased and gave way to the vibrations of landing gear lowering from the belly of the dropship. Everyone pricked their ears up, waiting for the impending thud that would signify the landing of their ship. Soon enough, a hollow noise came from below their feet, followed by a hardly noticeable tremor.

Attention. This craft has successfully landed inside the P.C.E. Pentifour. You may now begin disembarking procedures. Please remember to take all personal items with you. Storage units will be handled by onboard engineers. Repeat …

The automated computer started unbuckling the neole straps securing the officers to the pods. As the straps slid back into the slots on the sides of each chair, the men and women peeled themselves out of the cushioned seats and lazily stood up. Some rubbed the muscle cramps within their bodies, while others just blinked their eyes, trying to re-adjust to standing still. Of course the P.C.E. Pentifour was traveling at a high speed back to its base of origin, but to these men and women, it was firm ground.

Hunter opened his eyes reluctantly. After the initial liftoff and the duel with Bob, the vertical slingshot upwards into space was rather peaceful. The boy wiggled off of his seat and clumsily onto his feet. Another man briskly walking by slapped Hunter’s back saying, Ah, never get used to those express elevators, do ya! Hunter shrugged off the stranger and poked at the numb feeling left on his leg from the leg harness.

Hey, ’unter was it? Wanna ’elp me out with this load over here? Just gotta direct the carts to Storage Bay 6. came the familiarly rough voice of Jim the engineer.

Nah, I have homework to finish. You know, Finals, explained Hunter.

No kidding? Aw well, this is a man’s work, said Jim manning the controls of one floatation cart, heading out the open bay door of the dropship.

Hunter decided to follow suit. He walked out of the dropship and searched the walls to see what bay he was in. Painted in crisp blue, he saw Bay 12 stretching across the length of the silver walls. Nodding his head, he began to follow the path outlined in yellow to the huge exit doors. Quick little dropships swerved over his head, making their way to their designated landing zones. Despite the uncomfortable feeling provoked by bulky chunks of metal flying low over his head, he felt relatively safe. In theory (as long as the computers flew the ships correctly and at the right height), staying on the yellow pathway meant staying alive.

As he neared the opened hangar doors, he felt the presence of someone trying to catch up to him. As his eyes looked down towards the ground, he traced the movements of the slowing shadow as it came up on him. Preparing to whip around while incorporating a sudden, clean movement of defense, he realized it was only a humanoid shadow.

Hey! Your name’s Hunter, right? came an excited voice.

Hunter turned around to face the person and proceeded to walk backwards: Yes. And who might you be?

The young, sculpted officer replied, Oh, me? My name’s Daniel Samedia but people just refer to me as plain ol’ Dan.

Hunter turned back around to face the direction he was walking. He slowed his pace down the tinted silver corridor. The man slowed, as well, to stay beside Hunter. Slinking around some of the people ambling down their side of the hall, Hunter asked, So are you the Dan from Dropship 23?

Yeah, the friend of Bob, the guy you spooked.

Oh, well, I didn’t mean to spook Bob. He simply asked who I was, so I let his mind see who I am, explained Hunter.

A burnt corpse, grinned Dan who turned his head to watch one of the female officers run by him.

Rolling his eyes in reaction to Dan, Hunter continued, Well, he saw what I wanted him to see. It is hard for people to truly respect and understand each other in this day and age. So I used a little technique I have picked up along my travels to show him one aspect of myself.

So you’re saying you are as cold and dead on the inside as someone whose been burned alive? asked Dan cocking one eye.

You could say that. But, as I said, that is only the part I chose to show him.

Hunter stopped outside a gray, rounded door meant to absorb a great deal of gunfire before caving in. Hunter stuck a finger into a small hole next to the door and let the microscopic topography and skin cell analysis take place. In a moment, a fluorescent green light flashed to life above the thick door as it hesitantly slid open.

This is my stop, declared Hunter, expecting the man to walk away.

Oh hey, can I come in? You know, check out your ‘pad’? asked Dan a little too enthusiastically.

There was an oddity surrounding Dan’s actions that made Hunter uncomfortable. In light of this, Hunter declined: I’m afraid not. You’ll have to come over some other time.

Dan persisted, Ah come on! Just for a little bit?

Stepping inside, Hunter rejected his plea: Sorry, I have to study for Finals. With that, the reinforced door quickly slid shut.

~       ~       ~

Splayed out comfortably on a bed of pillows, Hunter looked at the pages in his textbook at a strange angle. Shifting around among the pillows covering the stiff bed in his room, he turned the book so that the words didn’t come to him at such a haphazard perspective. As if to help make more sense out of it, Hunter began to read aloud:

The Neutrino Bomb. Designed by Dr. Hans Caderia and created in the labs at the U.C. Tactics Academy by students of Dr. Caderia, this has been called the pacifist’s weapon. With all the grandiose shock value of the Atomic Bomb pioneered on Alpha 7, this bomb floods the area with a wash of neutrinos. These harmlessly pass through most substances. However, this technology is still being studied to determine what practical purpose it could be used for to enhance the lives of all species and their respective denominations.

"‘Better the lives’ my eye, thought Hunter. Oh well, I suppose their uses for that will prove to be more or less benevolent when compared to how they’ve been using quantum entanglement. Heh heh heh, talk about exotic methods of execution … Well cheers to the last theory, and my final exam in Applied Physics 22:3. I don’t think I’m going to get any further with these calculations tonight, or is it day now? Hmm."

Partly because of frustration and partly because he felt like talking to the cold, unhearing walls, Hunter proclaimed, This is pointless. Even if I work out these equations for my final exam, the Academy doesn’t have the technology to create such a device. Even the condensing technology I hold the rights to, and which the Academy has no knowledge of, isn’t anywhere near that powerful. The U.C.T.A., heh, what a place. They hold patents to some of the best weaponry in this universe and have created the most powerful devices known to, at least, our species, but they rely on their students to do the dirty work.

Hunter threw the book over the side of the bed. He slowly propped himself up and stared at the two pieces of luggage at the base of his bed, one of fabric containing his clothes and one plated in thick metals of various compositions—his other wardrobe. Hunter rolled over the side of his bed and half crawled to the shining case. Hunter checked a small, wrist-mounted electrical transmissions detector to make sure no signals were being sent to or from his room (what the U.C.T.A. affectionately referred to as prying eyes). He then sat cross-legged in front of the metallic case.

Hunter, ID 475603, he pronounced, waiting for the case to respond. A moment later, a section of metal unfolded to show a small panel covered with buttons. Hunter’s fingers darted from one symbol-inscribed button to the next. After entering in a string of code that only meant something to him, another section of alloys slid away, this time across the side of the case. Two switches were uncovered and Hunter methodically unlatched each, letting the skin-sensitive chips inside read his DNA arrangement. In the grand finale, slits appeared along the sides of the case and the top was forced up by miniature hydraulics. Inside lay Hunter’s selected guns.

He straightened his right leg and pulled his Magnum .76 out of the holster and set it inside the case. The sides conformed around the weapon so that it would fit snugly inside this storage unit. Hunter then sat back and eyed the long barrel of a jet-black weapon in the corner of the case. He told the case to seal itself at the same security level and thought, "Even if they could make something condense matter to that size, the matter itself would be highly unstable. Hell, I’m not even sure that thing is stable. Oh well, I’ll find out soon enough, I guess."

With that, he stood up and unlocked the much simpler suitcase next to it. Rummaging through the articles of clothing inside, he picked out a T-shirt sporting various weapons of Wu Shu and some beige cargo pants. After closing this case, he slid off the sweat stained meta-rubber suit on loan from the police-class enforcers. He smiled at the thought of how outdated this form of armor was, but then felt a sudden pity for the officers and their funding problems. These ideas and many others flowed through his mind as he dressed himself and decided to heed the pangs of hunger in his stomach.

~       ~       ~

Hunter stood in the curving line of the cafeteria. He kept his hands inside his pants pockets and stared down upon the floor. Tiles of white were interspersed with tiles of black covering the majority of the floor. Long tables of pale blue metal spanned the length of the room, with men and women sitting here and there along the corresponding benches. They dressed in all sorts of clothes, ranging from the sleek officer uniforms to spandex and workout shirts to casual dress.

Hunter’s gaze leapt from one pair of shoes to the next pair worn by the people standing in line with him. Apparently, the most popular footwear among this group was black leather boots. Of all the things that could make him stand out the most (besides his age), it was the pair of white sneakers on his own feet.

The line moved forward and he soon picked up a tray and some silverware. Still not quite close enough to put in an order, he decided to listen to the conversations occurring around him. The three men between him and another man who was dressed in a pitch black jumpsuit discussed their dissatisfaction at being placed on the Orange Team which was designated to guard the front of the complex back on the planet’s surface. They seemed rather disappointed at not having seen any action. Speaking of action, the smuggest of them said and then they began discussing their personal lives. Smiling at the rather immature topics of this new conversation, Hunter’s attention shifted to the dialogue commencing between the two women behind him.

So were you on any of the teams sent down there? asked the short brunette, tracing her fingers along her hair.

Yah, but I was on the Orange Team. We got to sit around and roast marshmallows while everyone else did the dirty work. We never even received any orders beyond ‘stay here and shoot any non-human that emerges from the building’, the taller redhead replied, obviously imitating the deep voice of whoever was her commanding officer.

Ah, well, that doesn’t matter too much. Word is that the thing was taken down single-handedly by one of those hired school kids. I don’t know, ask Jane Torrels about it. She was there. explained the brunette.

Hunter thought back to the events that had unfolded earlier that morning. He remembered slipping through the door unnoticed by his intended target, which crouched upon the desk in front of him at the time. In reflex to this opportunity, Hunter blew that portion of the desk out from under the Krotian. Unfazed, it jumped onto another part of the desk, poised to attack whoever it had cornered there. Without thinking, he had slid across the floor, all the while keeping the thing opposite the barrel of his Magnum .76. As he halted his motion, Hunter realized he had bumped into the shoulder of a rather beautiful young woman. Apologizing, he proceeded to fry the creature.

"Ah, a gentleman even under stress," he mused as a plate of steamed rice and chicken was placed on his tray. He politely thanked the server and casually walked over to a juice dispenser to get a glass of lemonade. Having done that, Hunter surveyed the room for a nice, quiet place to sit.

He made his way over to an empty table and thoughtfully set his tray upon the gleaming tabletop and sat down to eat. Hunter poked at the chicken a little bit, amused at the interesting consistency of it, then cut off bite-sized pieces. While rolling the reconstituted meat in his mouth, he felt the presence of someone standing over him.

Hey, Hunter. Is it really you? came a pleasant, boyish voice.

Hunter peered over his shoulder, unable to contain a smile, Hey! Adam! Long time no see!

Adam maneuvered his way around the table edge and set his tray down. Then, after pulling up his sleeves and adjusting his pants, he sat down opposite Hunter. The boy set out his silverware, examined the cleanliness of them, and chose a fork to begin with.

Polite as ever, I see, laughed Hunter, pulling off a piece of his chicken with his fingers.

Hey, it’s better than eating like the slob you are, motioned Adam with his head.

Eh, replied Hunter, shrugging his shoulders, Sometimes you’re required to use your fingers. This is one of those times.

They both sat in an airy silence as they continued to eat. Upon finishing most of the chicken and side of rice, they continued their conversation.

So word is, some strong, brave young man dispensed with the Krotian all by himself. Seems to go by the name ‘Hunter.’ Sound familiar? asked Adam sporting a sly smile.

Nah. Doesn’t ring a bell. responded Hunter as innocently as he could.

Adam noticed the veins that protruded from Hunter’s powerful forearms and continued, That’s a shame. It seems some of the women around here are anxious to meet this mysterious guy.