The doors hissed and slid open and he was thrown into the cargo hold. He landed with a loud thud and grunt. A’oldo Turtho turned his back and walked towards the cockpit, ignoring his bounty’s pleas for release. With a sigh, he returned his L-11 blaster to its compartment and threw his backpack on the co-pilot seat. The cockpit doors slowly closed with a satisfying clunk and A’oldo was left in silence. The murmurs from the port had died down and the night sky was bright with the glow of Irlam’s three moons. A’oldo looked out of The Revenant’s window into the ship bay, where several other starships had landed. Years ago, these ports were full of tourists and diplomats, but after the fall of the Democratic Union, the ports slowly emptied, with only Junkers and criminal empires such as the Torlag now using them for nefarious deeds. A’oldo looked back into his cockpit and effortlessly reached for the engine start-up coil, gently tugging on the hanging piece of metal until The Revenant roared to life, choking and spluttering as it did.

 

“Come on girl,” A’oldo groaned as the engines slowly started. Once the fuel line had reach maximum, A’oldo pulled the joystick, and The Revenant lifted from the ground. Soon, A’oldo passed the planetary checkpoint and was out into Irlam space. Once he was a safe distance away, A'oldo pressed the joystick into its socket, engaging auto-pilot. He stood and exited the cockpit, pulling his brown cloak off himself and setting it down on the bench beside him. He pulled his cloth mask down from his face and took in a deep breath, one that wasn’t filtered through his smoky and burned mask. A'oldo sighed and made his way down to the lower decks of The Revenant, where his bounty was imprisoned. He checked the door, ensuring it was still closed and locked, making sure he didn’t look through the tiny window in the door. Don’t want to give him hope of escape. A'oldo turned to the wall beside it, covered in wires and hanging cables from his last guest. She hadn’t been easy to find. With a roll of his eyes, A'oldo returned to his checks and repairs.

 

“I know you're there,” his bounty said, “I heard you fiddling with my door.” A'oldo didn’t respond, he never did. The door was a thick, titanium-ullbry alloy that no blaster could get through, but sadly, sound was able to slip through as if it were glass. A'oldo had thought to change it, but after careful deliberation, he decided not to. “What’s the price anyway?” the bounty continued, “sixty thousand credits?” A'oldo remained silent, gingerly placing a nest of wires back into his casing, sealing it quickly before another pulse from the engine came by. “More than sixty?” the bounty asked. A'oldo sighed, beginning to grow tired of the incessant chatter. “How much more?” A'oldo gritted his yellowing teeth and turned away from the door, hearing his bounty scamper to the door and slam against it, a giggle emitting from his belly. “You're him aren’t you?” he teased. A'oldo stopped, his face still and mind racing. The giggle grew into laughter. “You are aren’t you!” His bounty stepped away from the door, settling himself back down on the floor, laughing to himself. Gently, A'oldo rested his fist against the side of the stair, breathing heavily. Quickly, he snapped out of it and walked up the stairs into his quarters, situated behind the cockpit.

 

The Revenant was a small ship in comparison to others in the Hunters’ Guild, but A'oldo knew how to use it. With its name and record corrupted from any authoritarian institution that governs any world within the known universe, The Revenant was able to slip in and out of galactic institutions with barely a scratch on itself. A'oldo, on the other hand, was a different story. The man had been involved with several different gangs and crime syndicates, two of which resulted in him almost dying, but luckily the Hunters’ Guild had stepped in and saved him. A'oldo sighed again as he remembered the Guild’s warning, pushing it from his mind and returning to the repairs. Slowly, the autopilot hummed, and a red light flashed above the cockpit doorway. With a sigh, A'oldo stood and walked into the cockpit, his hand unconsciously reaching for the Tunnel-drive switch, flicking it down and sending The Revenant into the Tunnel.

 

“Estimated arrival time, one hour, seventeen minutes,” the autopilot readout. A'oldo nodded in acceptance and turned back to his quarters. Every so often, A'oldo would hear a distant whistle from his bounty below. A melody he recognised. Eventually, The Revenant came out of Tunnel and the planet Vorus appeared. Quickly, A'oldo made his way back to the cockpit, slipping into the seat and disengaged the autopilot, steering The Revenant towards the planetary checkpoint. Once he was cleared, A'oldo directed The Revenant towards the capital city of Vorus, Ultonvain. The city landscape was beautiful, with tall, glistening, gold towers that stretched into the sky. The streets below were filled with bustling people, each seemingly wearing a smile on their faces. Ships zipped around the skyline, all gold or white, The Revenant sticking out like a sore thumb amongst the heavenly aesthetic. A'oldo’s grey eyes landed on the landing pad he had been directed to and he slowly pushed on the joystick, easing the ship down. Once he was low enough, he engaged the landing thrusters and lowered the landing gear. The Revenant came down softly, its suspension in its landing gear the only thing that had survived all of its endeavours. A'oldo pulled on the ignition coil and the engines went quiet, the engines from the golden craft above him now apparent and his bounty still whistling in the cargo hold.

 

A'oldo walked down into the cargo hold and approached the door. The whistling stopped as A'oldo reached to the keypad. He pressed in the three-digit code and the heavy door slid open. His bounty stood and walked to the door, a smile spread across his face. With a hard stare, A'oldo gripped the man’s wrist and pulled him out of the cargo hold, forcing him to the exit. After checking his OD-1 was attached to his thigh, A'oldo lowered the ramp and opened the door, pushing his bounty out and down the ramp. He landed with a thud on the landing pad and groaned, his head now bleeding from the impact. A'oldo smiled to himself as he walked down the ramp, his eyes lifting to seeing the golden-skinned Prince of Vorus, Aku-tun, gliding gracefully towards him, flanked by three Vorian Palace Guards dressed in their blue and golden robes, armed with their CN-9116 blaster rifles. Once his bounty was back on his feet, A'oldo gripped the back of his neck and held him in place as the palace guards took him from A'oldo.

 

“I trust he wasn’t any trouble,” Aku-tun said, his voice smooth and soft, but his eyes hard and cold. A'oldo shrugged and folded his arms, uncomfortable against the armour beneath his ragged clothing.

 

“No more than anyone else,” he said gruffly. He looked at the Prince and glared at him, already sick with the golden glow that the city seemed to emit. “Where’s the money?” he asked. The Prince didn’t look at him, he only turned towards the palace and started walking away.

 

“My father wishes to see you before payment is made,” Aku-tun said quickly, only just loud enough for A'oldo to hear, “if you wish to see your money, you will see him.” A'oldo could hear the smirk the leeched on the man’s face. He huffed but started after the man, desperate to get the money through any means. The Prince was silent as he led A'oldo through the palace. A'oldo looked up at the golden dome that covered the front entrance of the palace, its hanging chandelier shining against the gold, throwing the light back down to the ground, surrounding those who entered in a heavenly glow. They continued forward until they reached the throne room. The throne room was narrow, only allowing three chairs at the end of the room. The room’s length, however, was as long as the palace. A'oldo wasn’t too familiar with Vorian culture, but he knew their royal customs. They believe that the longer the walk, the more divine the forgiveness. Their King is considered to be their God, their Junfrow. All justice is taken through the King, and if found guilty, is executed the next day. Eventually, A'oldo reached the end of the room, where the throne was bare. As he turned to confront the Prince, the door beside them opened and King Aku-un walked through. The Prince knelt as he entered, A'oldo quickly following suit. The King was silent as he walked to his throne and sat upon it. No one spoke.

 

“Are you the bounty hunter who brought the murderer for justice?” the King asked, his voice low and booming, sending chills down A'oldo’s spine.

 

“It is, my King,” the Prince said, keeping his head low. Despite his eyes seeing only the hard, marble floor, A'oldo could feel the eyes of the King on him.

 

“We thank you, bounty hunter,” he said slowly, “for you have…” Suddenly, a blaster was fired and the King grunted and fell forwards, a sizzling hole in his chest. A'oldo and Aku-tun looked up and both jumped back in horror. Already, A'oldo’s OD-1 was in his hand and pointed at the throne. Aku-tun’s eyes fell on the bounty hunter, and his blue eyes widened in horror.

 

“You killed him,” he whispered. A'oldo looked at the Prince, then at the King’s corpse, then at his blaster. He opened his mouth to protest but the Prince jumped at him, arms forward, teeth bared. A'oldo rolled away, holstering his OD-1 and throwing himself at the door beside him, the Prince calling for the palace guards. The room he entered was white, as if light were emitted from the walls themselves, several women jumped back in surprise and shock. The King wives most likely, part of Vorian culture to have several husbands and wives. The golden and pink-skinned women didn’t attempt to stop the shabby, grubby man as he ran through the room, leaving a trail of dirt from his boots as he did. Quickly, A'oldo reached for his grapple and wrapped it around his gauntlet, tying it off through his fingers. In a flash, he pulled his blaster out and fired it at the window, the glass shattered immediately on impact, then he jumped through it, turning his back to the ground and firing his grapple into the air. The claws of the grapple dug into the palace, jolting A'oldo to a stop, meters from the ground, screams of the Vorian people below causing A'oldo to groan. As fast as he could, A'oldo climbed the building, carefully avoiding the window he had jumped from. Once on the roof, he stopped. Standing in front of him, sniper blaster in hand, was his bounty. Free. As carefully as he could, A'oldo reached for his OD-1, feeling its weight against his thigh. His bounty smiled and waved at him, unsure of what to do.

 

“Hello,” the man said, continuing to fold away his sniper blaster, “wasn’t expecting to see you here.” A'oldo pulled his blaster out and aimed it at the man.

 

“How did you escape?” he asked, “And why kill the King?” the man sighed and closed the lid on the sniper blaster, tossing it over his shoulder into the courtyard below, the screams of people and shouts of guards now louder.

 

“Didn’t, and I was paid to,” the man answered plainly, pulling off his jacket, revealing his chest armour and bare arms. A'oldo started breathing heavily, his mind searching for questions.

 

“You killed Governor Ry-slo,” A'oldo said, trying to piece together the man’s words, keeping his blaster trained on the man’s heart. “Why would they just let you go?” The man shrugged.

 

“I was paid,” he said, a sly smile spreading across his face.

 

“Paid for what?” A'oldo demanded, the trigger starting to feel friendly to him. The man rolled his eyes and turned around, looking down into the courtyard below, exposing his back, and the insignia upon it.

 

“For killing the King,” he said, waving to the terrified people below. A few blaster shots flew past the edge, forcing the man to stumble back in shock, laughing as he did. “They’re getting better here,” he mocked, “they really are.” As he turned back, he saw the look of horror on A'oldo’s face. His mouth open and his hand shook with fear and anger. The man smiled at the reaction.

 

“Hello A'oldo!” the man said, “remember me?” A'oldo didn’t answer. “Well, not me specifically, but these guys?” he turned around again, exposing the insignia again. A'oldo’s grip tightened on the blaster. “The Great Purge, isn’t that what they call it there?” the man asked, jumping back from the edge to avoid three more blaster shots. “The Great Purge of Quergag? Is that it?” A'oldo remained silent, the screams of his memories haunting him. The man turned back to him and grinned at the sight he saw. Behind him, A'oldo could hear the hums of the Palace Security’s ships, he could feel the blasters trained on the both of them. With A'oldo’s mind still racing, the man sighed and ripped the blaster from his hand, aiming and firing at the two ships. The ships fell to the ground and were consumed in a fiery inferno. A'oldo looked down at the burning embers of the ships and guards that scattered the floor below.

 

“Why?” he shouted, turning back to the man. The man didn’t seem phased by the explosion or the deaths of several people, he seemed to be occupied with A'oldo’s OD-1.

 

“You’ve modified this,” he said softly, gently caressing the blaster’s barrel, “stripped out some of the grip to make way for an extra energy-munition. I like it.” A'oldo growled at the man and ran at him, tackling him to the ground, almost forcing him off the edge and down into the courtyard below.

 

“Why did you do that?” he growled again. The man sighed and brought his knee into A'oldo’s side, forcing him off balance, allowing him to throw A'oldo aside. A'oldo was quickly on his feet and charging at the man again. The man quickly sidestepped away, gripping A'oldo’s cloth cloak as he passed, violently pulling him back and towards the floor. A'oldo’s head hit the ground first, causing his vision to blur and his ears to ring. The smell of the smoke became overwhelming as he fell to the floor, clutching the back of his head in pain, saliva dripping from his bottom lip as he tried to regain control of himself. As he lay there, trying to focus, the man knelt beside him.

 

“Trouble with being half Ayoin,” he said, “their weakness is genetic through all species.” He gave a wry smile and stood, still holding A'oldo’s OD-1. “Now if you don’t mind, I've got a benefactor to kill.” And with that, the man turned and walked away. A'oldo lay there for a few moments, trying to sort his senses out. He grunted with pain as he lifted himself to his knees, one hand still clutched over the back of his head. It was moments like these when he hated being half Ayoin. Eventually, his vision returned and A'oldo lifted his eyes to see his bounty jump off the roof, down towards the Prince’s emergency quarters. With a sudden sense of urgency, A'oldo ignored his still thundering head and took off after the man, with his increased speed allowing him to reach the edge faster. As he reached the edge, he jumped, soaring above the emergency quarters, seeing the man below, his blaster aimed at the Prince’s head through the skylight in the ceiling. Without a moment to lose, A'oldo angled himself and landed on the man. The two crashed through the skylight, causing screams to erupt from the Prince’s four wives who were comforting the distressed man. The Prince jumped back in shock, immediately calling for his guards. A'oldo groaned as he tried to get to his feet, but he was too slow. The man was already up and kicked A'oldo to the ground again.

 

“Why can't you just stay down?” he shouted, bringing his boot into A'oldo’s stomach. “Didn’t the Purge teach you anything?” With his final kick, the man turned to the Prince and aimed the OD-1 at the royal. Before he could fire, the palace guards burst into the room, their CN-9116’s aimed at the pair. The man sighed and turned the blaster on the guards, killing two immediately, three more poured in, one diving over the Prince and the other two firing widely at the two men. A'oldo threw himself behind a pillar as best he could, narrowly avoiding the blaster bolts that scorched the white walls. As the firing continued, A'oldo looked over at the Prince, who was prioritising himself over the four women who lay cowered in the corner, screaming with every shot. The same anger and fury started to boil in his chest, the women’s tears reminding him of the Purge. Of the screams. Of the cries and pleas for mercy. A'oldo cast his eyes back to the Prince, who was draped in the guard’s robes, but before he could call after him, the guard dropped to the floor, dropping heavily on the Prince, crushing him under the immense weight of the armour beneath the robe. The Prince cried out in pain, before going silent. Soon, the other two guards lay dead on the floor, their bones audibly snapping as their armour fell around them. With a sigh of relief, the man skipped over to the Prince, tossing the OD-1 aside and unsheathing a guard’s Pikestaff. The long, pointed weapon was perfectly balanced across the length of the blade, a difficult weapon to use, unless trained as a palace guard. A'oldo tried to stand, but a sharp pain brought him to his knees. He looked down to find a shard of glass sticking through his thigh, the tip only just coming out of the front. Hesitantly, A'oldo gripped the shard and looked up, towards the man who was kneeling over the cowering Prince.

 

“I've paid you!” the Prince screamed, raising his hands above his head. “I've paid you! What more do you want?” The man looked up, as if in thought, before a thin smile stretched across his face. Without a response, he brought the Pikestaff down into the Prince’s throat. The man stood, looking deep into the Prince’s eyes, his smile growing as Aku-tun’s hand dropped and the light left his eyes. Before he had time to enjoy the moment, several blaster bolts flew past him, scaring the already terrified women even further. The man jumped back and dove for the OD-1, firing a few shots through the doorway. He landed beside A'oldo, laughing at the man’s struggles with the shard of glass.

 

“Here,” he muttered before he reached down and yanked the shard out of A'oldo’s thigh. A'oldo screamed in pain and collapsed to the floor, blood pouring from the wound. The man grinned and reach for A'oldo’s grapple, wrapping it around his own hand and tying it off between his fingers, like they had both been taught to do. He slipped the OD-1 into his belt and looked back down at A'oldo, gripping the man’s jaw and bring his face to his. Above them, a ship appeared. It was black with red engine vapour slowly spilling out from its engines. Its hanger door opened and revealed a man dressed in full black, the same insignia draped across his chest. The man wore a black helmet with a thin, red visor that seemed to bore into A'oldo’s mind, sending him back to the Purge. The man looked up and waved, firing another two shot through the doorway and then slipping the OD-1 back into his belt.

 

“See you around A'oldo,” the man said, aiming the grapple up to the ship. He fired it and was whisked into the sky and into the ship. He was embraced by the man in black before the hanger door closed and the ship flew away, leaving A'oldo with the sounds of charging footsteps running towards the door. The palace guards burst into the room, firing at the ground around A'oldo before realising his injury. A'oldo was immediately dragged to royal cells, which sat below the palace. They had been constructed many years ago and were used to house those criminals that directly wronged the royal family. They were kept here so the royal family could visit and describe any torture or question the prisoner at any time, but they had lain dormant for years, with the people of Vorus not allowing many other species to remain on their planet, nor any be brave or foolish enough to attempt a coup on the royal family. The cell A'oldo occupied was damp and cold, a stark contrast to the gold and white aesthetic of the city above. Instead of Vorian marble, the walls were grey and cobbled, with plants growing through the cracks in the stone. A'oldo lost track of time while in his cell. He was given healthy meals daily and medical supplies to bandage and heal himself. Eventually, a royal guard opened his cell and dragged A'oldo out, up and out, into the golden palace. Since the royal family had now been killed, A'oldo was dragged to the leader of the Vorian government, Shik-lar. The pink-skinned woman stood proud dressed in her white robes with gold embroidery. Her hair was black, a striking contrast to the rest of the governors, who all had white or blonde hair. When she approached A'oldo, he was forced to his feet, despite the pain and dizziness he was experiencing. Shik-lar didn’t speak, only stared into his grey eyes, her own blue eyes curious about the man brought before her.

 

“In one day,” she said slowly, not breaking eye contact with the injured man, “both the King and Prince of Vorus were killed, one in the company of you and the Prince, the other while the Prince was alone, in his emergency chambers with his wives.” Shik-lar turned to the governors, who all nodded in agreement. “Since then, it was also discovered that the Prince himself orchestrated the murder of his father and used this bounty hunter to bring in the killer, and then framed him for the murder.” The governors murmured, unsure as to what Shik-lar was suggesting with her statement. “Therefore,” she continued, “we can officially clear A'oldo Turtho of all charges regarding the murder and death of King Aku-un and Prince Aku-tun.” The governors clapped, their eyes darting from A'oldo to Shik-lar. Gently, the palace guard dropped him and A'oldo stopped, holding back the pain from his leg. Shik-lar stuck out her hand, a motion that confused many of the governors. A'oldo looked at the woman and shook her hand, a slight smirk rising across his lips. The remaining governors turned and walked away, murmuring amongst themselves.

 

“A Human tradition, I hear,” she said. She released his hand and sighed, seeing his armour through his clothes. “And you're prepared I see,” she murmured. A'oldo looked down at this chest armour and huffed.

 

“Always,” A'oldo responded.

 

“Even for the bounty I'm about to offer?” Shik-lar said. A'oldo looked at the woman, a stern look across her features. A'oldo raised an eyebrow and motioned for her to continue. “I, we, want that man and whoever he works for,” she said quickly. A'oldo’s eyes widened and his fists balled. “We’ll pay whatever price you want, just…”

 

“Ten thousand,” A'oldo said softly. Shik-lar stopped and stepped back slightly, taken aback by the number.

 

“That’s all?” she asked, “We are prepared to pay millions if you…

 

“Call it a professional courtesy,” A'oldo muttered before turning away and walking to the exit of the palace. Shik-lar was quick to his side.

 

“Are you sure?” she pushed. A'oldo didn’t answer and he lifted his cloth mask to his face. Shik-lar sighed and rubbed her forehead. The two walked in silence until they reached the landed pad where The Revenant still sat, waiting patiently for her pilot to return. Shik-lar stopped and crossed her arms, looking in awe and the small vessel. “She looks beaten up,” she said. A'oldo smiled under the mask.

 

“She’s been through a lot,” he said gruffly. As he approached The Revenant, he lifted his arm and pressed a button on his gauntlet. Immediately, the ramp lowered and the door hissed open. As he started his way up the ramp, Shik-lar called to him.

 

“A'oldo,” she cried, “bring him back alive.” A'oldo stopped and turned in the doorway, his hand resting over the door controls.

 

“No promises,” he said. Before she could open her mouth to protest, he raised the ramp and closed the door, immediately turning to the stairs and walking up to the cockpit, sitting in the chair and pulling on the ignition coil. The Revenant roared to life, spluttering out a plume of black smoke from its engines. Slowly, A'oldo lifted the joystick, and he lifted The Revenant off the platform and out of Ultonvain, through the checkpoint, and out into the vast reaches of space, the red insignia burned into his mind.