#1

   The sleek fighter shot forward at amazing speeds. It performed acrobatics that circus performers could only dream about. Equipped with the newest technology, the craft began disappearing from view.

  In other words, it was getting away.

  The Shooting Star had become but a faint speck of dust on our window. It was piloted by Ian Harris, a mid-twenties man from the British colony, Dome six, who had a reputation for drinking and holding up Cash Carriers. That was why he was trying to get away. That and he had a two-hundred thousand dollar mark on his head at the Cage. Chump change, really, but money is money, and we really need the money.

  And who am I? I'm Rouge St. Claire, a proud employee of Solar Galaxy Bond Agency, along with my good friend and partner Virlomi Nnadi. She was at the helm. We happily call ourselves the Bounty Huntresses.

  "Why aren't we going?" I asked, a sudden sense of urgency in my throat. "Harris is getting away!" Virlomi- Lomi for short- just gave me a subtle smile and nodded. Her slender hands graced the controls as our own buster raced after Harris’s ship. We ran a tight outfit, two Huntresses on our intergalactic fighter, the Streaker.

  We didn't name it, I swear.

  "You get excited too easily, Rouge," Lomi teased, a faint accent hinting her words. She was Indo-African, warm honey colored eyes, long black hair, dark olive skin, a little on the short side. My father was from the Spain colony, my mother English by way of the U.S. colony, which made me much lighter skinned, brown eyes, dark brown hair, a bit taller, not as exotic, you can say.

  I crossed my arms, leaning back in the plush co-pilot chair. Rarely did I ever touch the controls; I'm more of the muscle and fire power. All Lomi ever carried was a big stick. It's all she needed, I guess, but I like shiny things: guns, lasers, blades, you name it. Then there's my trusty cowboy hat. Never could leave home without it.

  "Yeah, well, we need this catch. Haven't brought in anyone to the Cage in two weeks, and I saw this pair of boots I wanted to buy."

  "I know the importance of money. I haven't eaten in two days because I had to pay for the Streaker’s new generator."

  Lomi also has more self control than I do.

  "So that's why you have such a wonderful figure."

  "I love it when you talk dirty," she teased with a winning smile.

  Harris’s ship appeared once more in their field of vision. It was a beautiful cruiser with all its shiny metal parts and impressive weapons system. It was the sort of vessel you would see men with small packages piloting. Trust me; I’ve had my run in with several of them.

  Lomi called him up on a visual link. Harris popped up, his handsome face stoic.

  “You’re a wanted man, Mr. Harris,” I said with a smile, “and you know we need to bring you in.” A smile played upon his lips.

  “Usually I don’t pass up a chance to share company with women, but I think it would be in my best interests to bid you all farewell.” His ship danced back and forth upon the navigation screen. He was going to make this hard on us. The Streaker followed suit. I brought up the targeting system for our three gun turrets and took careful aim. Should I just incapacitate him or annihilate him?

  “Hey, does this guy need to be living?” My partner blinked but did not meet my gaze.

  “Yes, Rouge, we need him alive,” she sighed, “which means you cannot blow him up.” Party-pooper. I shook my head and fired the turrets. A stream of lasers appeared momentarily and hit his pretty, shiny engines. The Shooting Star started up its emergency deceleration engine.

  “Do you think it’s safe to board?” Lomi shrugged, bringing our buster next to Harris’s. “Well, then, I suggest we bring along some protection.” A strange glance. “I mean weapons, Virlomi. He wasn’t that good looking.”

  “Well, I haven’t you seen with any men lately,” she spoke. “I thought maybe you were getting desperate.” I hated it when she was right.

  The door slid open quickly as we stepped into the bay of the Shooting Star. All was quiet except for the hum of the computers and the occasional beeping. Ian was hiding. Lomi stayed near the exit while I slowly proceeded into the bay, my XM17 laser in hand.

  “Mr. Harris,” I called out, “I’m all for using you for target practice, but I’d rather not have to take a chunk out of you, so why don’t you come out and surrender?” Silence. They always chose to be targets, why was that?

  Quietly I began searching behind storage bins and any other crevice he could be hiding in. Boxes were stacked high upon each other. There must have been at least one hundred stacks of them! Searching in and around all of them would take up too much time. My finger twitched above my laser’s trigger. Maybe if I just shot one box and it caught fire, it would smoke him out. There was a brief sound of shuffling feet near the entrance of the docking bay as I held up the laser to aim at one of the containers.

  “Rouge, I think it’s safe to say you don’t need that weapon,” Lomi spoke up from behind me. I glanced back at her and the unconscious body of Ian Harris. How in the hell…? “He was hiding in the corner of the bay and made a run for it when you were taking aim.” Ah, I won’t bother asking then.

  “I was looking forward to destroying things too,” I said, walking over to help Lomi restrain and carry Harris. If it wasn’t for the heavy lifting, Lomi wouldn’t need me as a partner at all. “You go on ahead and prep a cell, I’ll drag him.” She nodded and left.

  Ian Harris was a lot taller in person. His description placed him as being five feet and eleven inches, when he was actually more along the lines of six feet three inches. He was nearly a head taller than herself.

  He was lying face down with his arms restrained behind him. Struggling to roll him over, I set my weapon in its holster and put my back into it. It took me a minute to gain enough leverage, but he eventually rolled onto his back.

  His face was chiseled and handsome. His case pictures did him no justice. His jet black hair hung over his closed eyes. He was an extremely attractive man. I couldn’t keep myself from staring.

  “He isn’t ‘that good looking,’ huh, Rouge?” Lomi’s voice crept up. I quickly stood up, feigning my innocence. Okay, maybe I lied when I said that. “The cell is ready whenever you’re ready to stop staring at the poor man. I also linked his buster. We’ll tow it in.”

  Once we finally loaded Harris into his cell, I contacted The Cage to notify them that we were bringing in a live one. They really appreciate it when we tell them we’re bringing guests and not bodies. I plopped into my chair and straightened out my cowboy hat. Lomi was quickly plotting our destination into the Streaker’s computer, and I was doing absolutely nothing.

  “I think our passenger is awake,” Lomi said, sitting down in the pilot’s chair. “I hear him.” I cocked my head to the side. Well, I didn’t hear anything. Before I could ask her about what she heard, a groan interrupted the relative silence. I stared at my partner in disbelief. She was always full of surprises. “Maybe you’d like to pay a visit to our newest catch before we throw him in The Cage.”

  Upon entering the brig, Ian Harris was laying down upon a bench on his side, obviously haunted with a headache. His large muscles were tense.

  “Mr. Harris, it’s good to see that you’re awake.” His eyes moved toward mine, relatively calm. “You’re to be taken to The Cage to serve whatever punishment they deem fit. Probably some jail time, since they were relatively small Cash Carriers you hit.”

  “I guess I should save my temporary insanity plea until I get there,” he joked, a light accent glazing his words. It sent chills up my spine. “Alcohol has always plagued me. It impairs my… judgment.” His words implied something, and I blinked. He let out a bitter laugh.

  “Maybe you should,” was all I could say. Harris rubbed his head against the bench, trying to get rid of the ache. For a second, I thought I heard him whimper.

  “How much am I worth? Is it a good lot?”

  “No, barely enough to pay for our food and fuel.” He smiled benignly.

  “Then, it would not matter if you let me go, am I right?” It was my turn to smile.

  “Money is money, Mr. Harris. You of all people should know that.” Another bitter laughed escaped him.

  “I suppose. I suppose.”

  The Cage looks like a night club that would put Las Vegas to shame. There were bright neon lights as if to advertise the fact that yes, it was indeed The Cage. It was a huge colony orbiting Mars, about the size of a large city. It was the only agency in the inner planets area that made cash payoffs for bounties.

  About fifty years ago, most of the bond agencies were found on Earth. But as the population grew, the number of bounties and their reward money did as well. Too many cells dotted the tiny planet’s surface. It looked like the slums, only everywhere. Then someone came up with the bright idea to move them all into space. And here we are.

  Personally, I’ve never been inside The Cage before. Only guards, judges, and jailbirds ever witnessed the interior of the complex. If it was anything like the outside, it’d probably be a nice vacation spot.

  “This is Virlomi Nnadi, hunter code one-one-eight-nine,” Lomi stated to a grumpy looking guard over the visual link. “We’ve brought in bounty number…” This whole numerical protocol thing really bugged the hell out of me. It was all too complicated.

  “...We’ll be sending two guards to retrieve the prisoner. Be on standby.” Lomi nodded at me: my signal to assist the sentries once they entered the brig area. Why they would need my assistance is beyond me, but it was required.

  I stepped next to the cell and looked in. Harris was sitting down on the bench, staring at the floor.

  “This is your stop, Mr. Harris.” He took a quick glance up at me but stayed quiet. I shrugged and turned around, waiting for The Cage’s muscle to arrive.

  “What’s your name?” Ian’s voice pierced the silence.

  “What kind of question is that?” I grumbled, not moving.

  “An answerable one, I thought.” Smart-ass.

  “Rouge. Why do you want to know?”

  “I felt compelled to make an introduction, albeit a rather hasty and improper one,” he said as he got up. “It’s a pretty name.” As if on cue the guards stepped into the brig, waiting patiently as I unlocked the cell.

  They were huge men. Taller and burlier than our bounty and twice as ugly as a bloodstained mop. They were absolutely frightening.

  “The money will be deposited in twenty-four hours,” one of them grunted.

  Harris allowed himself to be escorted out of the brig. I watched wordlessly and found myself feeling sorry for Ian. That’s a big no-no for bounty hunters, so I shrugged it off and rejoined Lomi.

#2

  I was staring at the profile of a woman who could’ve been a beauty queen. Her eyes were a pristine blue, and her hair fell in curls of red silk. But what was even more beautiful was the reward: three million dollars.

  Apparently, Miranda Edmondson was married three times and divorced three times, and all before the age of twenty-three. She also had the nasty little habit of robbing major banks. Oh, and she enjoyed tennis.

  “This one looks promising,” I spoke to myself, leaning back a bit. Lomi was also reading the information.

  “It says that she’s escaped custody five times, all of them experienced bounty hunters. Red Anderson, Gordon Schaffer, Marcus-”

  “Yes, but they were all men! Look at her! Of course she got away!” She just rolled her eyes. “I know, I know, don’t judge a beauty queen by her make-up, right?”

  “That isn’t exactly how I’d put it,” Lomi sighed, “but yes. Do not underestimate this woman, Rouge. We can’t afford to mess this one up.” I feigned indignity and scoffed,

  “Me? Mess up a take down? Never!” She rolled her eyes again. Just to be quite honest, I’ve never totally screwed up a case. I had a habit of causing more damage than was necessary, but I never screwed up. “Ms. Edmondson was last seen in Seattle, Washington.”

  “It seems we will be doing this one the old-fashioned way,” Lomi deduced. Yeah, guns blazing and everything. “Don’t cause too much damage to our miserable planet.”

  “Is this place domed?”

  “No.”

  “Then what could I possibly do?”

  Lomi stayed quiet. Oh, ye of little faith.

  The northwest region of the United States was one of the few places that did not need to be domed. ‘Doming’ was basically putting a city in a big plastic bubble and purifying the air within it so it was breathable. There were usually huge generators to power the purifiers placed here and there. They’re also very expensive. I accidentally blew one up once going after a case on a motorcycle.

  Small, green foliage dotted the outskirts of the city. It was a contrast from the urban ruin of gray buildings and deserted roads. But that was only at the surface. Down below the abandoned wreckage formally known as Seattle was a bustling metropolis.

  See, back in time somewhere, the old Seattle had been burnt to the ground. Instead of cleaning it up, founders decided to build over it. Well, sometime not too long ago there was a restoration of the old city underground, and everyone flocked to it, leaving the surface city deserted. Don’t get me wrong, there are transports and parks up on the surface - people do need sunlight – but it wasn’t the same.

  Virlomi eased our fighter onto a landing port as I grabbed a pair of wrist restraints and a small gun. We both jumped down onto the ground. It’s weird being in natural gravity after being in space for so long. It gets some getting used to… sort of like getting your sea legs on a boat.

  “Where should we start?” I inquired. Seattle’s a pretty big place. That’s a lot of mileage for two people on foot to cover. Lomi indicated a park south from us. “A park? I thought we were on a case, not a lunch break.” She rolled her eyes and grinned knowingly.

  “I’m sure this park has a tennis court or two.” Oh, well, that makes sense. “Did she not enjoy the sport?”

  “Don’t get smart with me, Lomi.”

  “But I always am, Rouge.”

  “What? With me or smart?” My trusty sidekick began to walk down the stairs leading from the port.

  “Both,” she called over her shoulder. “Someone has to do the thinking.”

  As expected the park was nearly empty. There were a few joggers and loungers here and there, but no bustling crowds. The tennis courts were further towards the central of the park, and from where I was standing, it looked deserted. I would’ve questioned Lomi about checking it out, but she seemed to have a sixth sense about where people were. It was kind of frightening.

  I looked up to the sky, noticing the menacing gray clouds. Why anyone would be up in the park when it was about to rain was anyone’s question.

  “We should probably hurry it up,” I piped up, following my partner towards the courts. “It looks like one hell of a storm is brewing.” She looked over her shoulder at me with her honey colored eyes and smiled.

  “A little rain never hurt anyone.”

  I hate getting wet.

  Lomi and I walked the rest of the way to the tennis courts in relative silence. The wind had picked up, and my hair flew into my face distractingly. Without a second thought I brought my hand up to hold my hat securely on my head.

  Surprisingly there indeed was a pair playing tennis, but no waves of glorious red hair. I gave Lomi a look that screamed ‘I told you so.’ She smirked back and suggested,

  “We should question those two. Maybe they have seen Edmondson, or perhaps they know her.” I pursed my lips and waved the tennis players over.