Chasing Shadows (The Star Hunters Book 1) Read online

  The Star Hunters

  Book One: Chasing Shadows

  by

  K. N. Salustro

  THE STAR HUNTERS: CHASING SHADOWS

  Copyright © 2014 Kristen Salustro

  Cover Image: Adam Burn.

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events or locales is entirely coincidental.

  ALL RIGHTS RESERVED. Any unauthorized reprint or use of this material is prohibited. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system without express written permission from the author.

  For Mom, Dad, and Jacki, who taught me

  how to dream, and how to follow even the crazy

  ones. For Dakota, who lent his personality and

  signature stares to the arkins. And for Ben,

  who never let me give up.

  Contents

  Prologue: Hunt

  Chapter 1: Names

  Chapter 2: Redemption

  Chapter 3: Sprint

  Chapter 4: Alpha

  Chapter 5: Shift

  Chapter 6: Chase

  Chapter 7: Breach

  Chapter 8: Allies

  Chapter 9: Bargain

  Chapter 10: Enemies

  Chapter 11: Runners

  Chapter 12: Echoes

  Chapter 13: Dogfight

  Chapter 14: Zeroes

  Chapter 15: Nightmares

  Chapter 16: Flight

  Chapter 17: Contact

  Chapter 18: Asleep

  Chapter 19: Deception

  Chapter 20: Reasons

  Chapter 21: Doubt

  Chapter 22: Control

  Chapter 23: Maw

  Chapter 24: Burst

  Chapter 25: Focus

  Chapter 26: Price

  Chapter 27: Truth

  Chapter 28: Catcher

  Chapter 29: Break

  Chapter 30: Promise

  Prologue: Hunt

  The leaves rustled softly as Lissa shifted. The roughness of the tree bark pushed through her clothes and the cold night air bit down to her skin, but boredom gnawed at her more than anything else.

  Waiting is the worst part.

  She pulled her enerpulse pistol out of its holster and examined the weapon. The metal was sleek and dark, not a single mar nicked into the clean surfaces. No chances of a misfire. Lissa pressed the pistol between her knees and cupped her hand over the energy capsule holder. She unlocked the cover and slipped it back. The power source gave off a faint glow, and her black glove gobbled up the soft white light.

  The rhyme surfaced automatically: White-hot, killing shot.

  Lissa slid the cover closed. The lock clicked and she placed the pistol back in its holster. The weapon rested against her hip with an easy familiarity. When Lissa shifted again, pulling her legs close to her body, the pistol shifted with her. Its momentum felt anxious. Hungry, almost. Lissa did not like that feeling. She distracted herself by knuckling her thighs, working the stiffness and the cold out of her muscles. She should have dressed warmer, should have worn an outer layer over the hunting outfit, but that would have called for thicker, heavier clothes prone to catching on the branches. Better to suffer the chill than a fatal snag. As Lissa looked out beyond the tree leaves, she was glad that the air was not quite cold enough to coat the world with frost, but the night was still treacherous.

  The full moon hung high in the sky and stained the world silver-gray. The sparse trees stood tall and still, their leaves bleached white. Shadows clung to the tree trunks and the underside of the thickest bunches of leaves, waiting out the midnight hour. Beyond the last lonely trees, the distant shuttles gleamed the color of old bones. The windows of most of the shuttles gaped wide and dark, but there was one vessel with a healthy interior glow. The live shuttle waited for the signal to cast off and head for the starships docked just beyond the atmosphere. That signal wouldn’t come until one last passenger had boarded. Lissa waited for that passenger, too.

  She stretched her arms and looked wistfully at the shadows beneath the trees. She was in a good sniping position, but the place was unsafe. She had time for one shot, and then she needed to move. The instant she left the shelter of the leaves, she would be caught in the open and the dark hunting clothes would not help her under the glare of the moon. But for that, there was Blade.

  Lissa glanced at the branch below hers, at a black patch darker than the surrounding night. The blackness slowly resolved itself as Blade, the arkin that had been with Lissa for years. The arkin lay stretched out along a thick branch, her back legs dangling off the limb. Her front claws were hooked into the bark, and her chin rested on her foreleg. Her wings were folded neatly along her back, but her tail flicked restlessly and the stiff tufts of fur at its tip scraped against the tree bark. The arkin’s tail made little more than a faint hsssp every time it touched the tree, but the sound was enough to set Lissa on edge. She preferred silence.

  “Easy now,” Lissa whispered. “Just a little longer.”

  Blade sighed once, very softly, and her tail fell still.

  One quick shot, Lissa thought.

  It was always one quick shot. That was how Lissa worked: clean and fast. She never lingered, never wasted time or let first chances go by. She usually aimed for the head, but the heart or some other soft spot worked just as well when the target did not present itself cleanly. She did not like to draw things out any longer than she had to. The quicker she took down the target, the quicker she got off-planet, collected the bounty, and paid the medical bills.

  She was behind in payments. Most of the recent high-paying assassination bounties had surfaced in dangerous territories, either within easy reach of the Star Federation or deep in Anti-Neo-Andromedan strongholds. This bounty was at the very limit of her comfort zone, and the proximity to the Star Federation space station made the target especially dangerous. Taking out an officer was risky enough, but to do it on Earth via long-distance sniping was to slap the Monitors across the face. One quick signal to the station and by dawn the planet would be swarming with Star Fed ships.

  With dry amusement, Lissa thought of the target profile broadcasted by the contractor. Target’s smuggling activity, the profile had said, interferes with private operations. Vague connection to S.F., bribery suspected. Terminate on sight.

  Lissa translated that as “Kill the problem, reap the reward. If you’re smart, investigate the Star Fed connection before acting.” Some data sifting revealed that the target was a smuggler of steadily increasing renown. His Star Fed connection was that he was bribing a low-ranking officer, trading goods for a blind eye and a reasonably clear smuggling territory near Earth. More sifting, and Lissa discovered that all of that was the backstory for an undercover Star Federation officer in the field. He had claimed the records of a recently deceased smuggler as an identity boost.

  Lissa suspected the contractor had left that detail out in hopes of attracting a sloppy hunter. There was no better way to avoid paying off a bounty than to set the Star Feds on an unskilled hunter. But there always was the chance that someone like Lissa would pick up the trail, and the last thing any contractor wanted was a revenge hunt. Most contractors only broke the scheduled exchange if they knew for certain that the winning hunter no longer roamed the stars. The smart ones never broke exchanges at all.

  The way this bounty was set up, the contractor would be waiting at the rendezvous well ahead of schedu
le with the payment in full, but Lissa had almost withdrawn from the hunt anyway.

  She usually passed on the Star Federation contracts. They were few and far between and always offered high bounties, but the last thing Lissa wanted was a captain or a fleet commander honing in on her. This time, however, she was desperate enough to pick up the trail.

  Desperate, but not reckless.

  She had mapped out the locations of the shuttle area’s securities and had practiced the escape flight with Blade until their muscles could flawlessly relive the memory of the motions. There was a ship waiting to take them off-planet as soon as the hunt was over, and Lissa was confident that they’d be able to outrun the Star Feds. Earth was close to the main Star Federation station, but just far enough to give the escaping ship a small crack to slip through. Full evasion would depend on the skill of the transport ship captain, but his reputation as a smuggler preceded him. He’d know how to hide her. Lissa just needed to survive the initial rush of Star Feds and she’d be free and clear, but she never let herself forget that she was holding tight to threadbare luck. One wrong move and everything would unravel.

  She couldn’t afford to lose this bounty. Aven’s life depended on a successful hunt. His treatment had already tapped into the reserve funds and once those dried up, the doctor would be pulled out, and Aven would have a couple of weeks left. Maybe three or four, if he was lucky. Or unlucky, depending on how the disease played out.

  He needs you, a voice whispered across the years, more than you need him. Take care of him. Lissa was trying, but that had been difficult enough without the virus.

  Lissa stretched again and pushed the thought away. She would have more money and Aven would have more time. His doctor—a man who had fought the medical board for the resources and the chance to save Aven’s life, and who had only won after Lissa assured him and the board that she would cover the treatment’s cost herself—had promised a breakthrough within the next few months. He said that he felt he was getting close. Lissa wanted to believe him, but knew better. Still, she felt a faint flicker of hope. Although that might not have been rooted entirely in Aven’s progress.

  Most of her money went towards his treatment, but the remainder was spent on supplies, temporary shelter, and charters between planets. She travelled more than she really needed to. She could have set up a more permanent base and stayed close to Aven, but she never felt at peace if she was still for too long. Sometimes guilt pricked at her, and she wondered if Aven begrudged her long absences. He had to be lonely, but if he was, he tried very hard not to let her see. She doubted that he hid the loneliness for her sake. His pride had always been a bigger stake, sometimes to the point where she felt suffocated by his shadow, but that was not why she travelled.

  And she wasn’t travelling. She was running. Running as fast as she could, but the money had run faster and now it was almost gone.

  Almost there, she thought. One quick shot.

  Even when Aven had been healthy and strong, their lives had come down to one quick shot. One quick shot had kept them alive once Aven had learned how to stomach taking a life. He had proven to be a very quick learner, and so the Shadow was born.

  The Shadow had roamed the galaxy for several sidereal years now, hunting high-bounty targets and always staying just ahead of the Star Feds. One quick shot brought in the much-needed funds for travel, food, and temporary shelter. Eventually, one quick shot bought them Lightwave, a small, fast, beautiful starship. When the virus took hold in Aven’s lungs, one quick shot funded the treatment after the money from the sale of Lightwave had run out.

  Five long sidereal years of one quick shots and medical payments and charters to planet after planet after planet had slipped by, and now another payment was due, and now there would be another quick shot. Then there would be the trip to Phan, and the short reunion. Lissa hadn’t seen Aven in months, and guilt pricked at her again, although the feeling was growing weaker all the time. Aven did not seem keen on putting the medical funds to good use.

  “Physically,” the doctor had said, “he’s started to improve. Mentally, he is failing, and that will undo everything.”

  Years of illness had gnawed away at Aven, and he was losing the desire to hold on. Lissa couldn’t believe he was giving up now, after all they had been through, but in spite of her pleas and reassurances and occasional bursts of rage, Aven had decided that now was as good a time as any to slip over the line. Part of her wanted to let Aven go, but the rest clung to him. He was her only surviving family member, was all that was left of a life so far away that it felt like someone else’s. She wanted to hold on to that past life, but Aven did not care enough to keep a firm grip, and she hated him a little for that. Maybe that was why she had let so much time seep in between hunts.

  Take care of him.

  Lissa frowned and stretched again, working the cold out of her arms. She reminded herself that the other high-bounty targets had all been in very dangerous territories. Pursuing them would have been suicide. Tonight’s hunt was risky but easy, and would be over soon. The target was in sight.

  Lissa moved into her sniping position. It was awkward on the tree branch, but she crouched low and quickly found her balance. She drew her enerpulse pistol and sighted along the barrel. She watched her target’s vehicle—a bulky but sturdy mess of metal and engine—draw closer, a faint whine growing louder as the craft sped forward. The vehicle slowed as it reached the docking area, and approached the live shuttle at a low, cautious glide. The target’s craft paused a short distance from the waiting shuttle, and the shuttle’s doors slid open to let the captain emerge. The captain stood in the spilled light from the shuttle’s interior and made an annoyed gesture at the target’s vehicle, which quickly touched down.

  Lissa’s grip on her pistol tightened as the vehicle opened its doors and a lone figure emerged. Lissa hesitated just long enough to confirm the target’s identity. Then she rolled her shoulders a little to compensate for the distance.

  One quick shot—

  Chapter 1: Names

  Orion’s hard gaze was something Lance was only half-aware of as he sat in his private quarters of the Star Federation space station, staring through the thick pane of unbreakable glass that made up an entire wall of his quarters. The other three walls were dull gray, unornamented and cold. A large cot stood in the corner of the room, a mess of tangled blankets on top. There was a padded mat in another corner where Orion slept. Save for the large hover chair that Lance sat in, there was nothing else in the room. The place even smelled sterile, but Lance had grown used to that. With the exception of Orion’s bed, Lance had never needed anything other than what the Star Federation provided. His clothes were stored in a small closet built into one of the walls and so well hidden that the seam of the cabinet was invisible. Lance had no other possessions. Born and raised on the Star Federation station, he was used to this kind of life. There had been a time when he had hated living like this, but those days were long over now. He also spent so little time in his quarters that the state of his room did not matter. And when he did stay on the station for extended times, he was content with the cot, the chair, and the view of the stars.

  Lance often sat staring out at space, losing himself in his thoughts. Every so often, a starship would streak across the field but Lance would only give them passing glances if he looked at them at all. Today, Lance looked in the direction of Earth. He would be headed there soon, and after uncovering an unsettling clue in the Coleman murder case, he was not looking forward to the journey. He had been staring towards Earth for the better part of an hour now, growing more and more uneasy as the time slunk away.

  Stand and Protect.

  Tail twitching in irritation, Orion whined and tapped Lance’s leg with a paw.

  “Knock it off,” Lance said without breaking his level stare at the stars. “You’re not that bored.”

  Orion groaned loudly, but walked away and stretched before lying down and closing his eyes.

&nbs
p; Lance looked out into space for a moment longer, then sat back and lifted his datapad. He studied the three displayed images. Two of them were dark and blurry, and it was impossible to see any definite details. The third, however, showed the bounty hunter commonly called the Starcat bright and clear. She crouched on the edge of a building, poised to leap, and looked back over her shoulder, surprise and rage boiling in her eyes. She had survived the jump and evaded capture, but the damage had been done. The Star Federation knew her face.

  The Starcat had the habit of stalking her prey for days before moving in for the final strike. She enjoyed forcing her targets into fits of paranoia, and loved toying with their fear. She wasn’t the only bounty hunter that mixed work with play, but her physical characteristics made her unique and proved that the name “Starcat” was not solely based on her behavior. Her body was humanoid, but her face was distinctly feline, complete with a set of long white whiskers and a catlike nose. She also boasted a wicked set of fangs and clawed hands and feet that served as her weapon of choice over energy-pulse firearms; many of her targets were found with deep slashes in their bodies, and missing limbs were not uncommon. She only used an enerpulse pistol or rifle when she couldn’t get close enough to use her claws. That rarely happened.

  “What do you think,” Lance said as he turned the datapad, showing Orion the Starcat’s picture. “Cross her off the list?”

  The arkin looked at the picture, snorted, and pulled the corner of his mouth back into a half snarl. His yellow eyes flashed, hard and bright against the slash of black fur across his brow.

  “I thought so.”

  The Starcat was a very skilled assassin, but she had slipped up and her latest target had escaped. The target, a human male badly shaken by his time as prey, had delivered to the Star Federation a scrap of hair torn off the Starcat in a struggle. With the Starcat fully identified and traceable, Commander Keraun had lunged after her trail. Lance had contacted Keraun just a few short hours ago, and learned that Keraun’s squad had found fresh leads and was beginning to close in. The Starcat was nowhere near Earth and Captain Coleman’s murder site.