Page 5 of Hooded

I can’t move more than an inch at a time. Every muscle strains at the stuff, but I simply cannot do anything.

My captors are very keen I don’t damage myself, but I know one thing.

They can’t keep me like this forever. And when they stop, I will be ready.

I lift my head and howl into the light.

FERN

“You have him?” Markus glares at me down the comm link. “Your last communication said Tatatunga was under attack, and then you went silent for three nova-days,” the Habosu growls.

He isn’t happy. He’s never happy. If I thought I’d end up as my own boss when I started out on this whole bounty-hunter thing, I was wrong. I still have to deal with arseholes like him if I want my credits.

“Show me,” Markus adds.

“He’s a little…busy right now,” I say, checking the feed from the cell where I’ve just had to use the immobilizing foam. “I’ll send you over some images once I get him calm enough.”

“Whatever you do, don’t let him loose on your ship. He’s notorious for his tricky nature and can’t be trusted.”

“I read his file,” I say. “I know what I’m dealing with.”

Markus pulls in his bottom lip as if he wants to disagree but he can’t. The last mark I caught provided me with enough credits to buy my star flyer, and his fee was eye-watering. Plus, the last one also walked onto my borrowed ship and was quite grateful to have been taken alive.

Not like the one recently raging in the cell I currently have. The one covered head to toe with dirt and encrusted…stuff,smelling to high heaven. Even the nano-medics I sent in to deal with his wounds were somewhat reluctant to touch him.

“If you say so,” Markus grumbles. “But I want images as soon as possible to send to the client. They’ve been yelling at me for the past nova-week.”

“Tatatunga was a shit show,” I retort, “so they should be grateful I found him at all, let alone got him off a planet full of Bogarok.”

“Bogarok?” he queries, looking away from the comm. “I haven’t heard of any Bogarok incursions.” There’s an edge to his voice.

It means I know he’s lying. Markus’ clan has its greasy green-gray fingers in all parts of the galaxy, for good or bad. I’d rather not have to deal with him, but he’s the only way a member of a weird species, virtually unheard of and with little to recommend her, is going to get any work at all.

That’s something I found out the hard way. My first foray into the business nearly ended with me as the mark. My luck hasn’t got much better since. Mostly because I have to deal with Markus.

“Well, they were crawling all over Tatatunga.” I do my best so Markus doesn’t see my shudder. “And they knocked out all the comms, which is why I’m only able to get in touch now,” I say pointedly.

His huge shoulders shift as he sighs. “Send me proof of life when you can. I’ll send you the co-ordinates for the drop off as soon as I get them from the client.” He leans into the comm, and I think he’s about to terminate it, when his huge bulk drops back. “This one is live. Try to keep him that way.”

The comm goes dark. I make sure it’s terminated on my end before releasing a loud “fuck you” at the screen.

Beebie squirms out of my pocket, chittering for treats. I stroke his silky head and give him a couple I keep in a littlecubbyhole in the main console of the bridge I had installed for this exact purpose. He chomps happily and noisily.

“You did well today. Thank you, Beebs.” I snuggle my nose into his fur, inhaling his warm biscuit scent. “Although what exactly we’re going to do about Mr. Angry in the hold is another matter.”

Beebie sits up on his hind legs, exposing his fluffy belly as he holds a treat in both hands and nibbles delicately as I contemplate what I’m going to do now with the bat winged biped of a species called Denaver.

This one, according to his file, is wanted by my clients for a variety of crimes which all seem to be related to their rather inflated sense of self-importance. And the murder.

It’s the murder which is what makes him dangerous. Unprovoked and violent, just like the creature in my hold who is impressively still attempting to move around in the foam. He’s managed to get an arm free and is clawing at it with appendages which wouldn’t be out of place on a T-Rex. It would be funny if I didn’t think he’d do himself an injury.

But Beebie has given me an idea with his nibbling. Perhaps the beast might be hungry. I know I was when I finally got back on board my flier and stowed the unconscious mark. A shower and a hot meal later and I feel almost human again.

Although I’m never going to forget the smell of Bogarok.

I make my way down to the cell block. I optimistically had three installed, on the basis my luck might hold. The mark is in the final cell. I stand at the food dispenser and contemplate what he might like to eat. A big male presumably needs protein. But would he like something with flavor or just a big hunk of meat?

Everyone likes something tasty to eat, and he has been stunned multiple times, plus nearly battered his way out of the cell, so he has to be hungry, and it will probably help if the foodis tempting. I dial up a meal I like but make it three times bigger than my portion and then take the tray down to his cell.

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