FSE

Furry search engine

formerly SoFurry search engine

Alright, that thing recording?

Yes, yes, now just start already.

Fine…ladies and gentlemen of the galaxy, do you have any less than savory jobs that you need done, but don't wanna go through the hassle of all the paperwork and legal proceedings? Spouse cheated on you and you wanna make 'em suffer for it? Does your neighbor own some pretty bauble that you believe you deserve more? Some competing business has secrets you desperately need to get the edge up on them? Then good news! We here at the Queen's Kiss are the people for you! We've been in the game for only seven short years, and already we've had dozens of successful assignments. No task too big, no mission too small; so long as your pay us right, we can do it all. And, we guarantee full client confidentiality; no sentinel officers or Federation “peacekeepers" can make us breach our arrangement. That's trust you can't find in most other hired hands, and that's because unlike those other lovely men and women, we are one hundred percent independent, which means you can rest easy and never need to worry about some mob goon or mafioso calling you in for a favor afterwards. As far we're concerned, the moment we're done your job, it'll be like we never even met. So, call us at the number below, and we can have your seedy, underhanded, dirty deeds done before you can say sassafras_. And remember: with the Queen's Kiss, our clients are kings._

And…cut!

“He should have been here by now."

The clink clank of metal on metal sounded out as I drummed the fingers of one hand on the table's surface in idle boredom as I checked my wrist again. The softly glowing numbers told me we'd been sitting there for almost thirty minutes, but it had felt like hours. Figured. When you're waiting, time always seems to go by at a crawl.

“It's only been a few minutes," I fibbed.

The room was dimmed, and the brightest screen near the bar drew the eyes. Some news station was playing, listing off recent affairs, accidents, and amusing anecdotes. Of course, the presenter did it all with a professional smile, even when talking about some grisly murder. It made me wonder if it was the drugs or the promise of money that allowed them to keep a straight face.

Six of one, I suppose.

One of the servers came over to refill our drinks. The colorful liquids smelled faintly of berries. An attempt to mask the odor of alcohol, no doubt. It didn't actually. Not that either of us cared. I brought the glass to my lips and let the warmth of the elixir burn its way down my throat, while hearing my companion do much of the same, only in more earnest. She damn near gulped down the whole glass in one pull.

It'd be impressive in other circumstances.

Who am I kidding? It was still plenty respectable to see a Polkirz fox down more alcohol than she should be able to and still come out of it standing. Damn girl was barely as tall as my chest and she had drunk more than me and was still conscious.

This little vixen by my side was Lyra, a steadfast companion through thick and thin. She was my co-pilot, my mechanic, my ally on every job, all these and so much more.

Like all her kind, she had a coarse coat of fur, hers being a nice sandy shade and accented by white only on the bottom of her face and down her chest, as well as the tip of her big fluffy tail. Most of the fur was hidden underneath her clothes, of course; silken cream shirt with a thick leather apron over top, padded shorts cut at the knees, and some coverings for her feet to protect those paw pads of hers.

I'd heard some oddballs refer to paws with the word beans. Very strange people.

Lyra let out a long sigh. “What kinda guy sets up a meeting, then doesn't show on time?"

“Oh, come off it. It was your idea we come early," I said, poking at the tip of her coal black nose for added emphasis. The red rings around her eyes narrowed in tight as I did. “So do me a favor and have some damn patience."

“Pfft, rich coming from you," she scoffed. Resting a fist against a cheek, she leaned against the tabletop. “Last meetup, you kept looking at your wrist every ten seconds."

“That was different."

“Bullshit," she laughed.

“I wasn't even checking the time," I said, lying. Like a liar. Like a big dumb liar. “Kept getting messages."

With a scoff, she sidled up close and bumped her shoulder against my arm, saying, “Oh yeah? You get a lot of messages from all those clients we ain't getting, eh?"

“Don't see you going out of your way to find any," I retaliated.

“Ugh! Well, I never," she huffed with a smirk as she pushed herself away and stabbed her knife into what could only be a room temp piece of meat. Bringing the previously warm food to her maw, she happily gobbled it up.

With a grimace, I muttered, “That can't even have tasted—"

SLAM came a fist on the tabletop, fully interrupting my thoughts and shaking the half-eaten plates of food and empty glasses. A number of the nosy inquisitive types at nearby tables eyed us up and down at the disturbance to their wonderful evenings. I narrowed my brows and kept a hand close to the weapon at my waist. Just in case, of course.

A yip of, “There," rang from my partner's muzzle, her ears turned forwards as she stared off towards the entrance, her other hand extending a clawed finger.

Just like she said, coming in from the gentle rains was a brilliant red suit draped over a tall, pale figure; limbs too long and wiry. A perfect match for the description the client gave us. The figure swiveled its head on an elongated neck as it looked over all the tables before eventually stopping its motion in our direction, at which point it sauntered over in a manner that suggested the image of a man allergic to everything in his path. They glided along their short trek over, avoiding each and every thing that even potentially could have gotten in the way.

A chair squeaked as it was kicked out, an offer for our guest for when he finally reached us. And reach us he did, which allowed for a better look at him. He wasn't just pale, his skin was white as porcelain, with thin gray hairs circling his face in a facsimile of a beard. Pitiable, it was. Ink black orbs peeked out from the sunken depths of his eyes. Of course, there was also the long neck, seemingly like a snake or a snail or some other animal with such a feature, and it too had wispy ash-colored bristles running its length.

I couldn't place what he was, however. Perhaps some kind of an albino Jaytlan. Who could say?

The unknown man took his seat and placed his hands onto the table. Away from whatever weapons he might be hiding in that suit of his. A show of good faith, as it were.

Lyra and I both kept one hand each out of sight, a clear sign that we would not follow his example of open passivity. If this bothered him any, he had an excellent knack of not showing it.

“So," I started, “I can assume you're Mister Z?"

The long-necked man opened his mouth, but Lyra beat him to the punch.

“You're late," she said pointedly, one corner of her mouth pulling just enough to show off those sharp little teeth hidden inside.

The man in red's throat rumbled as he coughed awkwardly, and his eyes shifted between Lyra and myself several times before he found his words.

“I do apologize for that," he said, his voice rough and low, like he'd just eaten a handful of rocks. “There was a bit of trouble with personal matters, and I—"

“Doesn't matter," I spoke up, waving off his supposed excuse. Our server came over, so I ordered another round for Lyra and myself, while also adding a third drink for Mister Z. Before the young woman left, I told her, “This is the guy I told you about." She nodded as she walked off.

Mister Z raised a brow, so I responded to the silent question with, “You're paying the tab."

The snake-necked man sat more upright and began to blubber up a response, which Lyra shot down.

“Consider it compensation for keeping us waiting." She then took another stab at the cold meat and threw it inside her maw. For emphasis. Maybe.

Or maybe she actually did enjoy the cold meat.

“…I suppose that's more than fair," he relented.

Our guest adjusted the collar of that crimson suit and looked over his shoulder for a moment before speaking up again. Did he think he was followed? I subtly scanned the room while keeping a hand to my waist, my fingers barely a whisper above the cool steel of the hidden gun.

“Yes, I am Z," he said, finally answering my earlier question. “And I'd like to proposition you both." Lowering his head closer, he lowered his voice when he said, “I need you to retrieve something for me."

“So, a retrieval job, eh?" Lyra said between gulps of booze.

Z licked his lips, a foul looking yellow tongue sliding out from behind square teeth.

A smile creased my lips as I found myself saying, “I sure hope this job's worth all the hassle of us coming all the way out here. It'd be a real shame if you wasted our time with something a mailman could get you." As I said this, I began drumming my metallic fingers along the table again, eliciting more clicks and clanks as I did.

I could nearly hear the snake-like man swallow the lump in his throat as his eyes followed the movement of my fingers before he grabbed his drink and downed three large mouthfuls of the sweet-smelling liquid. Attempting to calm his nerves, perhaps.

Finally, Z revealed, “On Batraxxia is a certain beast: the South Etrin Deathbird."

“Are you shitting me?" Lyra blurted out almost the moment Z finished speaking. “Deathbird? Who comes up with this?"

“Might as well call the damn thing something like murderchicken," I said with a smile, nudging my small companion.

Lyra chuckled. “I think killerhawk would do nicely," she said through a laugh.

“Assassinationpheasant."

“Massacrecrow."

Z cleared his throat to regain focus. “Yes, well…I need you to retrieve the eggs from its nest."

“Eggs? Must be real important if you're paying people to get 'em for you." Lyra downed her glass before she asked with just a hint of suspicion dripping from her lips.

“Indeed," he said with a nod. “Deathbird eggs," he started, eying the pair of us as we both suppressed another laughing fit over the silly name, “are highly prized, and coincidentally, not technically allowed in certain systems."

I lifted my hand. “We don't need to know the nitty gritty of it all."

The vixen at my side pulled out a small tablet and after a short moment of tapping the screen, she said with a grunt, “Batraxxia's on the outer rim."

“Well, damn," I said, putting in as much faked glumness as I could. “Looks like we're gonna need an advance for all the fuel just to get there and back." It was a common tactic. It didn't always work, but Z struck me as the kinda guy who didn't work with mercs very often, so might not be as savvy as others.

“Oh, but of course," Z said without even a moment of hesitation. Either my ploy worked like a charm, or he just had a burning sensation in his pocket. A slender hand slid out of view, only to return holding a small rectangular drive. He placed it on the table and pushed it towards us, letting us know, “The data inside this device is worth ten thousand zags, or at least it should, provided you sell it to the right person. You will use these funds to provide for your travel."

I ruminated on his words for a moment, while glancing over at Lyra, only to see her face a combination of intrigue, puzzlement, and apprehension. I assumed my own face mirrored hers. Something about this job wasn't sitting right.

“You know, that is a very generous offer." Allowing my words to hang in the air let me watch my tablemates' reactions. Z looked a mixture of relieved and overjoyed that I sounded like I was ready to accept the job. Lyra seemed to catch on to what I was doing, however, simply looking on and waiting patiently.

“However, what's the catch?"

I watched as the lump in Z's throat moved down that rope neck of his as he bumbled out, “C-Catch?"

“Come on. You offer such a big advance, and expect us to just say yes without any questions?"

“Right. Right…should've expected as much," he mumbled almost inaudibly. “I told you what I wanted wasn't…entirely legal."

“Yeah?"

Get on with it, I groaned in my head, dreading whatever dumb caveat this job could entail.

“Well, these birds are rather dangerous beasts."

“The…deathbirds?" I had to pause to fight back a laugh at saying such a ridiculous name aloud again.

“Ughn!" came the loud annoyed whine from my sandy colored fox. “Let me guess," she grunted, “they 'earned their name' or whatever."

Z cleared his throat and shrugged his slender shoulders. “That's just it, exactly."

I motioned one of my metal fingers and asked, “Highly territorial?"

“Unlike anything you've probably seen," he responded.

“Extreme aggression?"

“They don't stop until they kill their target or die trying."

A small shrug came out almost on reflex. “Easy enough. Just pop a few rounds 'tween the eyes."

Z made a grimace and fumbled his words for a moment. “B-But that's the real problem." His hands grasped the edges of the table, as if to balance himself. “These birds are considered a protected species. You cannot, under any circumstances, harm them."

A small chuckle escaped me at the news, I just couldn't stop it. So not only were these 'deathbirds' just as much of a hassle as their name would suggest, but we also couldn't just go in guns blazing to make for an easy job. No wonder this Z character was willing to shell out so much for these coveted eggs.

I let out a long sigh while my laughter died down. Z, for his part, stared at me with a quizzical look about him. Lyra, however, was more interested in downing more of that cold meat. She knew me better than to actually worry.

After I gathered my thoughts, I offered my metallic hand and told Z, “Congratulations, Mister Z, The Queen's Kiss is happy to take on this job."

As he reached for my hand, I pulled back just before our hands were but a hairsbreadth away from clasping.

“But, before we make this official and all that…," I said, painting a business-like smile upon my lips and letting my words trail off.

I could practically feel the smirk on Lyra's face as she finished my thought, “…we need to discuss our compensation."

“Yes, yes, of course," Z said quickly. The slender man stroked his chin, whether it be in genuine thought or just an act, I couldn't tell. Eyes closed as he seemingly sunk deeper into thought. Before long, they opened again and he snapped his fingers.

“On top of the advance, I am willing to pay fifty thousand zags more upon completion of the job, provided you return with at least three of the eggs."

Interesting, I mused to myself.

“And if we don't have three?" Lyra said what I was thinking.

A long pale finger pulled at the tight suit collar encircling Z's neck as he also wiped a small bit of sweat from his brow when he said, “Then I won't pay anything more than the advance you've already received." He looked almost unsure of himself as he spoke, as if he couldn't entirely believe the words left his own mouth.

Z was terrible at dealing with mercs. It was almost sad.

However, I supposed it was only right to ask about the inverse situation, so I did just that.

“Ah," Z started his response, “now for that, I have a special offer."

“Ooh, I like the sound of 'special,'" Lyra said excitedly. I could feel a soft thump against the back of my chair as her big fluffy tail wagged along to her words.

“Y-Yes, well…" Z was back to his nervous self so quickly. “I will pay an added five thousand for each extra."

Laughing a little, I told our client, “You drive a hard bargain. You offer such a good payment, but tell us we can't kill anything. It's kinda funny." Taking a sip from my glass, I felt the warmth flow down my throat and embrace my chest in its heat. I once again offered the snake-ish man my hand. “All that being said, however, I already accepted the job, so how about we seal the deal?"

Almost in an instant, long and slender fingers wrapped around my hand as our new client smiled. “Thank you, thank you. I'll be sure to have your reward ready for your return."

“Obviously," Lyra chimed in, having finished off yet another drink.

How many was it by now?

She continued, “Otherwise, we'd have to get the money through other means." She left that vague threat hanging in the air as she produced a nasty looking curved dagger from under the table. She didn't even bother attempting to use it for emphasis with the threat, rather opting to use the blade to clean under her nails.

I could feel Z's palm getting a slight bit slick from sweat after that ambiguous warning. I quickly pulled my hand back, wiping the moisture on my pants leg. Didn't want the hand to rust, after all.

Our newfound client then took out a small slip of paper, sliding it across the table as he said, “Once you've finished and are off Batraxxia, you can contact me here." With that done, he said his goodbye, but not before I pulled at the hem of his suit, forcing him back down into his seat.

“Just one little thing we gotta take care of first," I told him. I could see the fear of god in his eyes.

Just what kinda vile thing did he think we would do?

I let him sweat it out for a few moments before tossing a look to my partner. Lyra then grabbed the little rectangle drive, plugging it into her tablet and tap tap tapping away at the screen for a solid minute before giving me a thumbs up. The money went through and we were now just that slight bit richer.

I released my hold on his suit, even went so far as to smooth it out for him. As I helped him back to his feet, I informed him, “A tip for if you ever deal with mercs in the future: never walk away before they confirm payments. Some of 'em ain't as nice as us."

The man was a blubbering mess, unable to get a single word out other than a muffled, “Thank you," as he made his escape, though his exit was much unlike his careful entrance; he almost barreled over a stray chair, knocking a poor server to the ground. Luckily for both of them, the girl wasn't carrying anything, and only hurt her butt when she landed, but Z didn't even pause to apologize, opting instead to continue the hasty retreat.

But just then, something hit me like a brick to the face.

Something that instantly made me laugh.

“Sly bastard didn't pick up the tab."

Beside me, I could hear a tongue click before Lyra said, “Just tack it onto the price of the eggs when we see him again."

I thought about it for a moment before concluding, “Nah. Let him get away with it. It kinda makes me respect him." A cowardly guy like that managing to bail on something as simple as a bar check was surprising. Maybe there was more to this guy than he let on.

Either way, Lyra bringing up the eggs reminded me of a nagging thought in the back of my mind. “Speaking of, think these eggs are really worth that much?"

“Psh, who cares?" She stood up and pushed me out of her way so she could leave our little booth table. A clicking sounded out with each of her steps on the tiled floor.

Rising to leave, I looked down at my partner, the top of her big fluffy ears barely reaching up to my chin. Sometimes, it's easy to forget just how small she was.

“Still though, any idea why he'd even want 'em?" I'd had a hunch, and was wondering if she happened to share my thoughts.

She answered my unsaid question rather simply.

“Nope. Don't care, neither."

“Not even if I bet a hundred zags?"

The little fox shook her head in disbelief, ears wiggling in place, and she gave my arm a playful little jab. “If you wanna lose money, that's your deal. So, what's the bet?"

While paying off our tab, I told her a thought that'd been swimming about, “Rich guys like that always do stupid things with so-called exotic species. So, I'm willing to bet he wants to try to raise one of these from birth. Uh, hatch, I guess. Maybe some kind of guard…bird?"

She exclaimed, “Hah, you're on," while shoving me out the door. “Easiest hundred zags I've ever made."

“Oh, so you think he's not this dumb?"

“You kidding? A wreck like that? He's probably gonna sell 'em off, make back what he gives us. Probably make double, hell."

As we left the bar, we were graced to the sight of the endless starry expanse. A fire-coated rock soared in the distance towards some unknown destination while a handful of starships were coming and going by. Off in the distance, the flaming ball of fire that was this system's star glowed with a blinding white light.

The bar happened to be situated on a small station sailing through the sable skies of space. It was a dingy little place by the name of Fraza Station, split between the upper and lower sections, with the topside being where the shops, bars, casinos, whorehouses, and back-alley deals all were housed, and the bottom being a rather large garage-like space port for all the ships to lounge in while their owners did their business up above. It was the sort of place that in any other city would be called the seedy underbelly. But since the station didn't really have much in the way of, shall we say, respectable sorts, it was less _under_belly and more just the whole damn stomach.

Our feet carried us past gloriously lit hotels, drunken morons hanging out of windows and spilling bottles of who knows what all over the streets below. A group of rowdy and raucous revelers stumbled their way opposite us and over to a nearby gambling hall, the flashing neon signs making it an obvious draw for the inebriated fools to lose as much money as possible. And draw them it did, if the line of people going in and out was anything to go by; each building was a concert with how many feet stomped inside to peek at the supposedly fun diversions from their mundane lives.

“We gotta restock with Vivi before we leave," my little engineer friend spoke to the air, to which I wordlessly nodded along. Now that we were out of the dimly lit bar, I could see her better, and noticed nothing out of the ordinary. Ordinary for her, at least. Damned woman drank twice as much as I did, and showed zero signs of the alcohol's effects. No slanted walking, no glazed over eyes, not even any slurring of the speech. I was always so confused how a person half my size could drink so much and never be bothered by any of it.

Perhaps it was just her alien biology or something.

Whatever the case was, Lyra was able to lead the way. Walking a step behind her, I had to move slow, or risk bumping into her. For each of my steps, Lyra's stride needed to be almost three or four just to stay ahead. Suited me just fine; it let me have a good view of her big poofy tail as it lazily drifted from side to side like a big feather duster. It took a certain amount of willpower to avoid just reaching out and running my hands through that wonderful fluff.

I had to hold it together. At least, up until we got back to the ship.

As we continued, a faint aroma wafted along through the pumped in oxygen drifting from the vents. It was a mixture of sweat and blood, with just a dash of shame; a horrible concoction that seemed to permeate similar such stations we'd visited. I'd become so used to the scent, it was almost like a whisper on the air, always there in these kinds of places, but never so overpowering as to be the largest stench.

I couldn't tell if it was a good thing or not that some small part of me could still detect it.

A blaring siren screamed overhead as a sentinel floater dashed towards some unknown crime to deal with. I followed the little vehicle's path, watching as it slowed and eventually landed several blocks up. The doors opened and out popped two of the law enforcers themselves, both holding a large tech revolver, probably already demanding the nearby onlookers to scatter as they walked towards an upturned scuttle-car.

Loud beeps stole my focus away from the crime fighting, bringing my attention over to the right. Several lines waited at the entrances back to the port; a wall of steel pipe fencing, with the only way through being ticket scanning turnstiles, each one emitting the same loud beeping as the lines got shorter. Unbeknownst to me, during my brief snooping, Lyra had already got in line, so I shuffled past a few people and slid in beside her.

No one bothered to fuss over it. We all knew one another was packing heat, so what's a little cut in line, right?

We were out of the line in a flash, the turnstile's deafening sound now but a distant call as we descended the stairs. As we went down, each step opened up more of the port to our eyes, until the whole of it was in view. If the topside of the station was a bustling, crime-riddled mess, the port was pristine and orderly by comparison. Not by much, mind you, but it at least looked halfway decent. Rows and rows of little bridges and connectors and landing pads for all manner of ships, arranged in a semi-circle. Instead of the towering casinos and whorehouses, down in the port there were little dips and crevasses where mechanics and part sellers plied their trades, and down in one of those valleys lived a certain mechanic Lyra and I were making a beeline for.

Ships were taking off and landing all around, from the large cargo vessels fueling up to continue their long treks, to the smaller single-person shuttles whose pilots were only here for the excitement of the city. Of course, there were also some ships belonging to, shall we say, less reputable sorts; pirates, scammers, smugglers, drug and arms runners, and so on. Not to say Lyra and I were saints---far from it obviously---it was just that the logos and decals on some of those ships weren't entirely unknown to me.

With each second step of mine, a metallic clang rang out as my other prosthetic met the steel bridge. Indeed, I was down not just an arm but also a leg, and just like the former, the latter was also affixed with a bionic replacement made by none other than my brilliant partner. Honestly, the prosthetics fared me better than the real parts ever had. After all, the metal ones can get busted and broken and easily fixed up with new ones without all the hassle of blood loss and going into shock and potential death and all that grisly nonsense. So yeah, cyborg limbs.

A ramshackle building of welded together scrap metal was where we made our stop. Building might have been generous, as one would struggle to call it anything more than a toolshed. A little sliding window of sorts sat a small bit higher than my head, and when I knocked on the thin sheet metal, it was moved aside immediately, and what was behind that was a blue lion's head, complete with a mane of a purple so deep it was almost black. A snarl painted his face, up until he noticed just who was bothering him.

“Well, well, well," the lion man spoke, his snarl transforming to a normal frown, “I take it your client finally showed up."

“Took his sweet ass time," Lyra nearly shouted. “I was fixing to pop a round in his foot for keeping us so long."

“Sounds about right," he replied. The sheet was slid back in place and then from the opposite side of the shack was the sound of a door opening and closing, and soon after the lion man sauntered from around the corner. Other than the fur color, the first thing you'd notice about him is he was big. And I don't just mean big, I mean huge. Guy was easily three heads taller than me, and wide as a barn. His damn arms were thicker than his neck, and the bastard never wore a shirt neither, so the whole universe was privy to the sculpted muscles of his barrel chest. Honestly, it was just a little bit gross. Not that I'd ever tell him that.

“So," I spoke up, nudging my head towards the rows of ships behind him, “my baby's all fueled up? We got a big trip ahead of us."

“What do ya take me for?" he said with a raised brow. “'Course I filled 'er up. Took care of the g-diffuser, too."

I gave the mechanic a puzzled look, but Lyra was the one who said, “We never asked you to."

He shrugged at that, mumbling, “I could hear it rattlin' around as you landed. Consider it on the house. But don't go telling nobody." Lyra and I must have smiled at that, because he put on a serious face and said, “Not. A. Soul."

This blue leonine soul was Vivi. A local of the station, and from how I heard it, he'd been here longer than anyone could remember. Lyra and I had been using this station for regular client meetings, and each time we ported, we made sure to dock near Vivi's. I couldn't seem to jog my memory of how our mutual business first came about, but however it did, it clearly left a lasting impression, because there wasn't a single other greaser in the whole of Fraza I let touch our ship. Vivi'd tuned up the old gal more times than any other mechanic across the galaxy, and whenever he got done, she ran like the day I first got her.

My hands came up in a defeated gesture. “Whatever you say, big fella," I told him.

“Don't call me big fella."

“So, big fella," Lyra said with a smirk, “got a proposition for ya."

Finishing the thought, I said, “We're gonna need some light rods."

One of his massive hands came up to rub at his chin, while the other made quick little circle motions with one finger. It was a silent question of just how much we were asking for. I nudged the vixen and nodded at her tablet.

It took a second, but the wheels did turn and she went, “Oh!" Her fingers were a flash, the tablet suddenly in hand, and quickly she came up with a figure. “Looks like our target's gonna take about ten or so rods just for a one-way."

I wracked my mind to try to remember if we even had any onboard. I seemed to recall we did, so I added, “And taking what we got already, how about just making it an even twenty for a round trip?" When Lyra turned, about to ask me why so many, I reminded her of the generous advance we'd been given not that long ago.

Vivi's scraggly purple mane bobbed when he gave a short nod. “Right then. Twenty rods'll cost ya fifteen thou." He disappeared back into his shed. Apparently, it must have been larger on the inside or something, because there was no way that tiny thing was able to hold the various tool and ship parts. Maybe he had some kind of basement. Either way, after a small vanishing act, Vivi came back out with a satchel filled with our purchase, the clink clank of glass rattling against itself in the bag the easiest indicator of this fact.

He reiterated the price, at which point Lyra messed about on her tablet again, pulling out another drive like the one Z gave us, plugging it into the tablet. As quick as the little thing was inserted, it was just as swiftly removed, Lyra handing it over to our lovely blue feline friend. He didn't bother checking it, long since knowing we'd never dream of screwing him over. I mean, the guy was built like a buster ship and was probably about as deadly as one; trying to fuck with him would only end poorly.

Wordlessly, he walked off down the port, nudging his head in a silent beckon to follow him. As we followed behind him, a large, expensive looking ship began to take off up ahead. Bright white paint was contrasted with golden trimming around the windows and door, as well as in long streaks down the side. With sharp angles and a size barely big enough for even a single passenger, it was evidently a scout ship, though clearly not for any local governments; as if the colors weren't enough of a sign, this ship also had four wide wings that folded out into a X-pattern as it rose away from the dock and an equal number of boosters on the rear. The sleek design was free of debris, scratches, dents, bumps, or any other disturbance to its pristine hull. Clearly, the pilot took very special care of their ship.

Then again, spending that much time and effort to keep it so tidy was more trouble than it was worth.

Finally, Vivi came to a stop, right before a stark contrast to the pricey model that just took off. Our ship, the Queen's Kiss. Where that other ship had a brilliant and pure clean hull, ours was coated in filth from various travel; dirt and debris from the various planets we had been to, as well as long scratches and dents we'd taken on certain jobs. No simple scout ship was she, no siree, the Queen was a small cargo hauler, but one that had been souped-up with extra armor. Never can be too careful. No gold edges or silly circles painted on the sides here, neither, instead replaced by a full dark purple. While my pride and joy lacked the quad-wings or boosts, she had strong modifications on the bog-standard dual variations of each, making her quicker and more nimble than other ships of similar design. And finally, emblazoned upon the side of this old pile of junk, I'd put up a decal of a pair of plump lips with a glorious crown hovering over top.

Vivi handed over the bag of light rods to the little vixen between us, saying, “Take care out there. If you need this many, means you're probably heading pretty damn far, right?" When I was about to respond, he held up a huge hand, halting any hints. “Don't need any deets. Just let it be known I hope to see you again."

“Aw, that's sweet of you, big guy," Lyra said in a lilt. Despite the obvious mocking, she gave the lion a short hug before hopping onboard. Over her shoulder, she called out, “Not like you to worry, though. Figured you'd tell us to fuck off like usual."

“Fuck off, then," he said with a toothy grin.

Lyra gave a short laugh before disappearing inside.

Giving the big blue bastard a playful punch to one of his huge shoulders, I told him, “We'll be back before you know it. Can't go too long without eating one of those cookies of yours, after all. Way too addicting."

He rolled his eyes at that. “Fine then, you make it back in one piece, I'll bake the two of you a whole batch." We shared a chuckle over that before Vivi shot his eyes at the open door of the ship, whereupon he muttered, “She think she's getting out of paying for the rods?"

Swiftly, I pulled out a small tablet of my own, smaller than the one Lyra carried at her side, and then told the big blue beast of a man, “Relax, big guy. Got your money right here."

He looked about ready to snip back at me for the comment, but swallowed the response down and held out his hand, revealing a thin metallic strip embedded within his palm. After hovering my tablet over that strip for a moment or two, a shrill beep sounded from my device, signifying the zag transfer was complete.

“Always a pleasure," I told him, miming a tipping of a hat for added effect.

He returned the phantom gesture and offered, “Send a holo my way when you make it back to the system."

One of my eyebrows shot up. “Lyra's right. This is unlike you."

Those large dark eyes of his rolled almost a full circle, and then he barked out, “Well, do me a favor and you fuck off too, then." Just like when he said the same to my partner, Vivi was unable to hide the smile as he shooed me away. We exchanged a friendly handshake before I finally entered my ship.

As I climbed on, I gave an almost superstitious knuckle tap onto the edge of the outer doorframe. It was a familiar gesture, a habit picked up from my childhood.

Inside the ship, the lights were dimmed much like the bar's, drawing my eyes to the nearest source of light, which happened to be a room off at the back half of the ship, so my feet automatically moved me towards the light. In what would have been the cargo hold in most other haulers, Lyra and I had modified it into a makeshift bedroom. Nothing too fancy, just a bolted down and magnetized bed and two chests, one for extra clothes and the other for weapons and supplies. Just a sort of mobile hotel room. Or rather, considering the size and lack of amenities, probably more of a motel room. And it was the supplies chest where Lyra was knelt in front of, her hands rummaging through the contents therein.

One of her ears flicked before I even entered the room, so she explained without even looking up, “Just making sure we have what we need."

“And how do you know what we need?"

A click of the tongue followed, after which she finally turned her gaze to me. “Because I know you don't give a damn about this bird thing being protected."

She got me there. My shoulders shrugged as I told her, “Would make the job easier. Just blast the thing between the eyes and we can get all the eggs we want from its nest."

“My point exactly," she said pointedly, pulling out a pair of guns, the same ones she had used for every gig we'd ever taken. Twin plasma pistols, Kalt Elite Kommanders. “Just making sure you weren't serious with that guy," she added.

“When's the last time we ever did a job without shooting something?"

Her hands paused their sorting through items and she began to look through her mind, evident by tilting her head to the side. After a few seconds, she came to some kind of conclusion and looked back at me.

“There was that time on Rhenik with the utan gems."

“To be fair," I told her, “there wasn't anything to shoot."

“Still counts," she snarked.

Resuming her digging, she came back out with my shotgun and handed it over. It was the old reliable one my father gave me way back when; a triple barreled XM-003, affectionately nicknamed Cerberus. By me.

As the flesh of my original hand touched the cool metal of the firearm, my mind drifted to the first time I'd ever used it. It was a nice memory.

Shaking the thought away, I looked down at my partner, who was still pulling out supplies. At her side were some flashbangs, incendiary grenades, an assortment of charge batteries for our firearms, so on and so on, yet she was still looking through things.

So, I decided to ask what the hell she was trying to find.

“I thought we had a—" she started, but then cut herself off with an excited, “Yes!"

Seemingly having found her prize, Lyra lunged forward, bending over entirely at the waist, and dipping her whole upper body into the contents of the chest to reach the treasure. Moments later, she popped back, jumping up onto her feet almost at once.

There in her hands was a shock trap, a special little device that was more or less a netgun, but with the netting electrically charged.

I gave a little grunt. “Thought we tossed that thing after it busted back on Tilkti."

“We did," she said. “Or rather…you did." When I raised a brow at her, she explained, “I wanted to fix it up myself, rather than waste money buying a new one."

“Fair enough."

I grabbed my bag, stashed my gun inside along with a few other essentials, then headed out the room. I carried myself to the front of the ship, off towards the cockpit, the console's lights and indicators and whatnot shining like little stars in the dim environment of the Queen. In an instant, I was already in the pilot's seat and flipping switches and getting ready to punch in coordinates. Which I didn't have.

Dammit.

“Lyra!" Turning in the seat, I yelled back to the vixen. “Need the cords."

In the darkened hull of the Queen, my eyes could make out a brown blur as Lyra damn near flashed up the hall. I didn't even have the time to fully register she was now standing before me when she pulled me out of the pilot's chair and placed herself down upon it.

“Who told you to take the controls?" I question, once my head was no longer fuzzy from how absurd what just happened was.

“Oh, I'm sorry," she snarked. “Would you prefer to fly us there, captain?"

With an exaggerated scoff, I idly brushed a finger against one of her large ears. “My ship, ain't it?"

Repeating my scoff, she cocked her head up at me. “And which of us has poured their blood, sweat, and tears into repairing your ship after each of our jobs?"

“Pretty damn sure Vivi's done more work on this old girl than you."

“Maybe I should hop out and ask him to head to the outer rim with you instead, then."

We both knew this fake spat was just to waste time while she got the ship off the station and ready for a light jump. Mock jabs continued to be thrown while the Queen lifted off the dock and slowly floated to a nearby porthole, the inky abyss of space just beyond the opening. Soon, we were through and out, the confines of the station giving way to the endless expanse, and Lyra began to hit more buttons and flip other switches.

Then, she pressed the big blue button that readied the light engine, at which point, a thought occurred to me.

“What do we know about Batraxxia?"

“S'got a breathable atmosphere, at least where we're heading," she said in near-monotone, staring at the monitors and gauges. “Place is considered a neutral planet, though, so it's a hotbed of bandit crews and such."

“Any we know?"

Her muzzle opened for a brief second before she whipped out her tablet.

After rereading whatever she got her notes from, she said, “Zell's guys have a hideout in North Etrin, but other than them, nobody we know."

“Hm," I mused. “Probably best to engage camo once we get into the system. Try to completely avoid their scanners. Zell's a good guy and all, but I don't need him trying to barge his way into another gig."

She then mentioned, “No civvies. Supposedly, nothing's evolved into a higher state. Place is basically free real estate."

Finally, a short beep rang out, signifying the light engines were ready. I pressed the red button next to the big blue one on the console, and suddenly, space shifted around the ship, all the blackness of the empty void having color slowly bleed into it. A chaotic meld of blues, reds, greens and purples swirled in a circle, lengthening out to form a tunnel surrounding us. The moment the edges of the tunnel touched one another to become a perfect tube, the Queen lurched forward, and if it weren't for the g-diffuser, it would've rushed hard enough to almost knock me off my feet.

No clue what Vivi supposedly fixed with the diffuser. I sure as hell couldn't tell any difference from yesterday.

Now that we'd entered the tunnel of lights, Lyra reached up and stretched her arms over her head, letting out a long and satisfied groan. When she finished, she yawned and turned on the autopilot, then looked up.

“Gonna be about a little over an hour before we hit Batraxxia's system," she said, throwing me a knowing look. “That sure is a loooong time of doing nothing."

Feigning ignorance, I responded, “And I suppose you have some idea of how we can waste that time?"

“I may have come up with one or two activities," she retorted, playing into my faked lack of awareness. “But you're gonna have to do 'em with me. Would be awful boring to do it myself."

“Oh, well in that case, I guess I have to join. Wouldn't want you getting bored, now."

“Such a dreadful thing, boredom," she said with an exaggerated sigh, her eyes not-so-subtly gesturing towards the back of the ship. She then spread her arms in a silent command of carry me.

All I could do was laugh as I lifted my lovely little lady. As she wrapped her fuzz covered legs around my waist, her own laughter accompanied my own while I hoisted her down to the bedroom. To waste some time.

Roughly an hour later, Lyra and I were basking in the afterglow of our wasted time, the sheets a rumpled mess at the foot of the bed, our clothing strewn about the room, the air thick with the scent of sweat. A shudder rippled through Lyra as I ran my hand down her side, the bristle of fur tingling my bare arm the entire journey, and when I stopped and gave one of her ample thighs a squeeze, she let out a husky breath.

“Hmmm," she moaned, “I'd say let's go for another round, but honestly, I'm a little bit too sore for that."

“So am I," I said in a grunt. “Don't get me wrong, I'd love to go again, but at this point I think it'd just hurt too much."

“I swear, next time, I—"

BLIP BLIP

BLIP BLIP

“Well, shit," I groaned. “Sounds like we're just about to hit the Batraxxia's system"

Lyra mimicked my groan and pushed off my chest to sit up. “Damn, and I was just about ready for a nap."

“Eh, we can sleep on the trip back," I mumbled. I stood up and almost immediately fumbled onto my ass. My entire leg was tingling with the pinprick sensation of a limb having fallen asleep. Thankfully, the metal one never had these problems, so I was able to balance on it while waiting for the numbness in its fleshy twin to recede. By the time I was able to put weight on it, Lyra had already swiftly redressed and left the room, leaving me standing there in my birthday suit.

I followed behind her, only after picking up my own discarded clothes of course, and found her at the control console, the tunnel of colors still swirling outside before us. The console blipped again, so my little vixen slapped a button, and the kaleidoscope mess outside slowly began to dissipate, revealing to us the once hidden inky sea of stars. As more and more of the blackness was shown to us, we were able to see a large planet come into view.

It was on the heavy side, easily dwarfing the majority of planets I've visited in recent memory. I could see a vast expanse of land, a supercontinent, surrounded by water. Granted, only this one side was in my sight, but Lyra had informed me offhandedly about this tract being the entirety of Batraxxia's terrain.

I reached over my copilot and flipped a switch, turning on the Queen's stealth optics. When she looked back at me, I reminded her of what she said about the planet being a hideout for gangs. She shrugged and sat back in the chair, ready to steer us down to Batraxxia's surface. As she was busy with that, I picked up her tablet, as an idea popped in my head.

“There we go," I said, finding the information I wanted. Lyra asked me what I was doing, so I apprised her. “Looks like Z was telling the truth about those dumb bird things."

“The deathbirds," she corrected, unable to bite down the snickering as she said the beast's name.

“Yeah…that." I had to bite the inside of my lip for a moment to stop from laughing about the name again. “Well, turns out they really are aggressive bastards. Their make wide territories, too. And yeah, they find anything in their area, they hunt it down."

“Sounds like a stupid predator. I mean, if it just kills anything it finds immediately, it'll run off all the prey and starve itself."

“…did you already read all this?"

Her head whipped around and she stared at me with a bewildered look.

I explained, “That's actually what it says about them. They overhunt and eventually die from lack of food. It's kinda why there's so few of them left."

She clicked her tongue and went back to her task of flying us down. “Dumbass animal."

“Yep. They even hunt one another if they're pissy enough."

“No wonder they're almost extinct."

I listed off a few more bits of info.

“They're pretty big, looks like just about my size for the average bird. It's also flightless; the wings act as a pair of arms instead, but they still have some feathers and shit, but their bones aren't hollow and light enough for it to fly. Oh, this one's nice," I said, noting a particularly fun entry, “their beaks are lined with sharpened teeth."

“Wonderful," Lyra snarked.

The Queen slowed, making her descent into Batraxxia, the air turning red before us as we broke into the atmosphere. Lyra took us in a slight arc while slowing down the ship, attempting to keep the heat down as much as possible. Puffy clouds came into view first, like a big cotton blanket covering all the eye could see. The clouds then gave way to the planet's surface, which was a rather…unimpressive sight. Just normal looking environments, really. Vast mountains, giant forests, a desert encompassing the southern tip, so on and so forth. All in all, a pretty average place. If it weren't for the sheer gargantuan size of the planet, and by extension the landmass therein, Batraxxia honestly wouldn't have stood out if you placed a pic of it alongside any other planet.

Lyra flew us down lower, our destination apparently part of that massive desert. South Etrin. It made me wonder aloud who even named any of the places here if there weren't any civilizations or evolved native species.

“The Federation," Lyra answered offhandedly. “The Allied Planets' researchers pool their knowledge about uninhabited worlds and work together to properly title everything."

“Sounds like a waste of time."

“More like a waste of money."

“What's the difference?" we asked the air simultaneously, sharing a small chuckle afterwards.

In two shakes of a valkez tail, Lyra had brought the Queen down close to the desert, the air around us swiftly becoming hazy with sand, the sun-bleached land a stark contrast to the inky gloom of space. Dunes taller than buildings towered in every which way as the Queen's Kiss touched down in a little valley, jostling slightly when the landing gear met the gritty ground. Looking around, I could see no sign of life among the sands. Hell, there was barely even any plants, just withered shades of what once was.

I tightened my grip on Cerberus.

I turned to the door to the outside, halting and throwing back a quick question.

“Breathable atmosphere, right?"

“Don't be such a baby," the vixen instructed, pushing past me and opening the door. Instantly, harsh light nearly blinded us both from the sunbeams bouncing off the sands, and the fine powder sped into our faces.

The door closed instantly. I couldn't tell which of us hit the button first.

Breathable atmosphere? Sure.

Probably should have done a bit more research, though.

Luckily, we weren't inexperienced when it came to harsh environ, so we kept a pair of haz-suits, helmets, rebreathers, and all manner of crap that is almost always useless. Except for those rare times they aren't. Probably could've counted on one hand the times each of these had ever been needed.

We put on visored helmets and with now protected faces, we opened the door once again. The bright dunes were not so blinding anymore, nor were the dust clouds quite as bothersome. We had even went the extra mile and put on sand boots so we could walk unabated. I took my first step off the ship and then looked back at my partner.

“So, where the hell do we start looking for this damn thing?"

She was already tapping clawed fingers onto her tablet. She hooked a thumb over to the right and said, “Looks like there's a network of caves under the dunes. The…deathbirds supposedly make nests in those tunnels after mating."

“Shit," I spit out. “Gonna be annoying to deal with two at once."

“Won't have to," she said with a yawn, leading the way. “These things are hermaphroditic. They meet up, impregnate one another, and then go their separate ways to their own nests."

“That's weird."

“I've seen weirder."

We'd been walking for a meager few minutes when I said, “Couldn't you have flown us closer to the caves?"

She scoffed. “They attack anything in their territory, idiot." With a wave of her furry hand, she asked, “You want one of them messing up the Queen and risk stranding ourselves out in this bumfuck nowhere system?"

“Fair enough."

“Not even a million zags are worth that kind of aggravation."

Nudging her short frame forward, I motioned at the tablet in her hands. “How far?"

“S'long as we keep a good pace, the nearest cave network should be an hour away," she explained.

In a cynical tone, I muttered, “Oh goodie."

Through the sands we went, the blazing sun bearing down on us much like a weight to a pack animal. Sweat poured down my body, my back and chest completely soaked in it as we trudged on. Similarly to our LZ, no animals were around. No indicator of what could even populate these endless sands seemed to exist, for as far as we walked, not a damned thing appeared. It definitely gave the desert an unsettling tone to it.

Through the communicators in the helmets, I could hear Lyra panting as she struggled with the heat, but still she pushed through it like a trooper.

Admirable.

Respectable.

But then again, I already knew that about her. It was one of the things that drew me to her. That and her crafting prosthetics sure didn't hurt any. Except for whenever I need replacement parts, of course, but I'd been a good boy lately at not destroying my mechanical limbs. It'd been at least five months since the last time I'd needed a new appendage. Five and a half, in fact!

That's a new record.

Regardless, seeing my little lover barely letting the sweltering blaze get her down was inspiring, and I could feel my own sweat soaked body push harder just at the sight of her resolve.

After what felt like ages, something changed. The view ahead was no longer just endless sand. Finally, some rocky terrain showed itself. We were coming up on these supposed deathbird nesting grounds. I gripped the Cerberus tight in my metal hand, ready for the moment the beast presented itself. Ahead of me, Lyra slowed to a crawl as she looked all around, her ears flittering to find any hint the creature was nearby. When the tension in her shoulders eased, I knelt beside her.

Without turning my way, she mumbled, “No sign of…anything, really. I don't like it."

I drew a small circle in the air with the barrel of my shotgun and said, pointing out a hole in the rocks, “Closest cave is over there."

“Toss a grenade to get some attention. Hopefully, it's inside and not out hunting already."

“We taking this loud and fast," I mused. “Just like on Jihfle."

“Jihfle was a disaster," she noted.

“We lived."

“I had to build a new leg for you."

“We lived," I repeated.

Her only response was an annoyed sigh as she reached for one of the explosives at my belt. She threw the little oblong orb at the opening in the stones, and then we both held our breath. Seconds creeped by as we waited for the mini-bomb to go off.

One second.

Two seconds.

Three.

Four.

BABOOM

Sand and rocks were sent flying as the grenade exploded into a big ball of smoke and flame. The concussive force was pretty strong for such a small thing, as even though Lyra had thrown it fairly far, I could feel a bit of the blast from where we stood behind a small hill of sand and dust.

And then…

Nothing.

Not a damn thing.

I let out a slow breath. “Good. Let's head inside and see about those eggs." Even though the stupidly named creature wasn't in, I still kept the Cerberus at the ready. Y'know, just in case. From my side, out of the corner of my eyes, I could barely make out Lyra pulling out her guns.

We took slow, careful steps towards the cave entrance, each drop of a foot accompanied with eyes shifting in all ways, analyzing and searching for anything. Anything that could get the drop on us. Anything we could get the drop on. Whichever made for a more fun time.

The light from the harsh sun was slowly giving way to the dark shadows inside the cave as we journeyed deeper inside, the sound of the wind against the sands fading into obscurity only to replaced by the echo of our own footsteps upon the cavern rocks. Like the desert behind us, the cave was barren of any sign of life, leaving me to wonder if this bird thing had already killed any and all native life in the surrounding area. Would certainly explain why we hadn't seen anything of note this whole time.

It was cold in this rocky tomb, a stark contrast to the desert that lie behind us. Through the very slight breeze, I picked up a rather sour smell. I wasn't able to place it, but it certainly didn't seem like something entirely new.

Each step that took us deeper in further stole away our sight until we were forced to switch on the dark vision of our visors just to keep from being blind. With our vision partially restored, we continued on until we came to a fork in our path. Quite literally, the tunnel branched off into two distinct paths.

“Bigger than it looked on the outside," I said under my breath.

“Meh," Lyra sounded. “Like I said, these cave networks are all around underneath the desert. It's pretty damn huge."

“If it's so big, how are we supposed to find those eggs?"

“Like this," she said, moving ahead of me and tossing a small metal ball. It bounced and then rolled a ways before it split itself down the middle and a periscopic stick rose up and shot out a wide beam, which then rotated around the entire cave. When the beam passed over me, I had to close my eyes. Dark vision did not go well with bright lights directly into your eyeballs, after all. Once the beam made a complete rotation, the stick sank back down and the ball reformed itself.

A slight noise came from Lyra's helmet a second later, and then one of her clawed fingers came up to press against the side of her visor.

“Looks like the nest shouldn't be too far now," she said, nudging her head over to the left path. “Nothing else around, too, so we're in the clear."

“Excellent," I exclaimed, taking the lead, stowing away the Cerberus for now.

Like Lyra said, it really wasn't far. Just a short jaunt and soon, we came upon a sort of 'clearing' in the cave, if one could call it that. The tunnel opened up to a large circular section, the rocks having been, for lack of a better term, smashed to hell and back to make the floor of the cave less hard and lumpy. Rather ingenious for a simple beast, this deathbird.

Suddenly, a strong odor hit my nostrils. The kind of scent you know deep in your gut on an instinctual level, but don't normally have the chance to truly experience. Sour. Rotten. It could drive a man to wretch had one a weak stomach. Right next to the little crevasse into this open area was a corpse. A half-eaten body of some unknown lifeform, currently crawling with maggots and flies.

“God," Lyra whispered, a hand coming up to the front of her helmet, only to knock against the metal.

Ah, but of course, the prize we came here for. The rotten stink would have to just be ignored.

In the center of the floor was a dimple or divot in the floor, which itself was surrounded by dried, withered grasses and broken twigs. And in the center of that, nestled betwixt even more grass, was a clutch of eggs. Big sumbitches, too; each one easily about twice as large and thick as my fist. We were drawn closer and so each held up an egg, getting a feel for just how weighty they were. Surprisingly, it took a not so small amount of effort to keep it aloft. It was uncanny how similar they were to a common bird egg, save for the obvious size difference of course. Then again, what other kind of egg would a creature with bird in their name lay?

“Shit," Lyra breathed out. “I don't think we have the space to take all of these back with us."

Finally, this complication caused me to see just how many eggs were in the nest. A quick scan revealed a baker's dozen; a clean and uneven thirteen of these giant orbs. We each had a small bag to grab as many of the eggs as we could, but now I was wondering if two was enough.

I thought for a moment. “Well, I'd say we could do multiple trips, but that'd mean potentially running into that bird. I suppose we could just carefully put them in our—"

I looked over to find Lyra, for her part, was already stuffing the eggs into her bag. Nonchalantly, she stated, “Just grab as many as we can, screw it." As I watched her push in the oblong ovals, I found she could fit just about four of them before being barely able to close the bag. I followed her actions, and came to realize my bag was just slightly bigger, being able to hold five of these damn things. Unfortunately it wasn't a perfect fit, as when I zipped the bag up, I had to get Lyra to help hold the sides closed so the zipper teeth could actually bite down.

With the eggs (mostly) secured, we made our way back to the entrance of the cave. Each step brought us closer to the light, until soon, the sun's beams could be seen twinkling off the rocks, and the shadows on the floor began to retreat from the harsh yellow of the outside world creeping in. We were so close to getting back to the ship and receiving our payout for this stupidly simple gig.

It almost seemed like we came overprepared.

We were only a few feet away from the entrance when a noise like a combination between a scream and the roar of an old engine rang out. The sound came from just beyond the stones of the entrance, and echoed through the cave. Then, taking a large step from behind the rocks, it appeared. The best way I could describe it would be if a chicken grew to the size of an emu and had all its feathers somehow transmuted into hard scales. Like a normal avian, the legs were covered in scales and ended in sharp taloned toes. However, in place of where wings would be, this creature had arms with scales just like its legs, but these pseudo-arms were the only place with actual feathers, albeit there weren't nearly enough for it to make proper use of. Its large head had a beak the color of oil, and the creature's dark eyes were wide as it scanned the interior of its home.

This, as one would rightly assume, was the South Etrin deathbird.

The instant it turned its head our way, I was already aiming my Cerberus at its ugly face and pulled the trigger. As the shotgun fired, it roared out a thunderclap as three plasma charged shells found their mark into said ugly face, forming a triangle of pain around its cheek and neck.

The bird shrugged off the shots.

Even though the leathery surface of its skin was now burnt and smoking, the creature just narrowed its tiny eyes and let out another of those odd engine screams. This showed off the razor teeth inside the beak, just like the description I'd read before. With its mouth still open wide, it began to move towards us at an alarming pace; there was almost no wind up, it was just full speed the moment it started.

Lyra and I dodged as best we could, just narrowly avoiding the brute as it raced past us and into the far wall with a crash. We didn't need any words, we just ran for the exit and back out into the desert. As the blaze of the sun hit us, there was no hesitation as we started back towards the ship.

Unfortunately, it was a long trek, and the deathbird was already roaring in anger right at the cave entrance, ready to follow after. I heard it running once more, so I bumped into Lyra, knocking us both to the side to yet again avoid the bird's charge. This time, the creature's relentless running saw it throwing itself headlong into a dune, burying its head into the side of the hill.

This thing isn't all that hard to deal with.

Just as the thought entered my mind, the deathbird was already pulling itself back up, as if it could hear my internal words. Just like before, it yet again made to dash at us. Lyra and I took aim at the deathbird, preparing to do whatever we could to slow it down. I shot at its chest, which it just shrugged off and kept on running, while Lyra's shots hit lower, closer to its legs. When the plasma bolts hit the legs, the bird stumbled to the sands, its feet having been knocked out from under it.

“Hah! Take that, you ugly bastard," I shouted at the animal.

As if on cue, the deathbird got right back up, its legs now sporting the burning wounds from Lyra's gunshots. Rearing up its disgusting leathery neck, it let loose a warbled cry tinged with fury. Or at least, I assumed as much. I mean, if someone had forced me to plant my face in the dirt like that, I'd be pretty pissed. The flightless fowl took another charge, heading like a missile right for us.

Lyra scoffed and snarled, “This thing just don't quit."

Without any time to reload, we stowed our guns and made a break for it, all the while knowing the bird was relentlessly pursuing us. Through the dunes, we three darted and dashed, rushed and ran, and other synonyms for high-speed movement. Each next step Lyra and I made, the deathbird was right there on our heels, beak open, teeth poised to lash into us. My muscles ached, and my breaths were becoming more and more labored, lungs struggling to hold onto each intake of air as if it'd be my last.

Which it probably would have been, to be fair.

At some point, Lyra pulled to the right, her eye having been caught by a grouping of large rocks and boulders. Noticing this, I went left in an attempt to draw our stalker with me. The heavy pounding footsteps behind me became fainter, however, and I dared a look back to see the bird following after Lyra. Smaller prey was an easier choice, I supposed. Faster than even I thought possible, the Cerberus was reloaded and already firing off all three shots right at the bird's hind flank. The deathbird jammed its feet into the sand to halt its run, only to turn in a flash, ready to punish me for interrupting it.

The moment I took aim again, however, it crouched down and bounded into a high jump, quickly closing the distance, its feet talons ready to latch onto us. Lyra and I jumped back to avoid the impact, which ended up with the deathbird making a small crater in the sands, a cloud of sand kicking up in the process. Through the cloud, we could make out the image of the demonic avian half buried in the sand from the waist down. Apparently, it's divebomb had unintended consequences. The fowl's thin arms were flailing hopelessly in vain as its talons couldn't find purchase in the loose and shifty sands.

I first heard a snort, only to turn and see Lyra already at my side, letting out a huge glob of spit at the partially entombed creature.

“Stupid bird," she yelled down at it. Then she let off a—by now pointless—potshot at the thing.

After catching my breath, I tightened my grip on my bag, telling my partner, “We should probably get moving before it can climb out." As we look down at it, the bird's taloned 'fingers' kept going through the sand, preventing it from doing much besides slapping at the ground.

“If it can climb out," I added.

Lyra agreed with a nod as we took our prize and left the beast in its self-made trap. As we walked off, I could still hear it struggling in the sand. It was almost funny.

Overhead, the bright sun was beginning to lower itself, hopefully bringing all its heat with it, if South Etrin was like any desert I was familiar with. Not that it mattered all too much; by the time we'd make it back to the Queen, night would still be a few hours away, and we'd be long gone off into the stars before the sun was even kissing the horizon. Even more hopefully, in less than two hours, we'd be back home with a nice sum of zags from this ridiculous gig.

We clambered up a dune hill and stopped for a moment. Bones creaked as I bent my knees out for a short stretch before pulling out my flask and downing the nice cool juice within. Peach and pear mix. The best mix. As the sweet flavors cascaded down my throat, I closed my eyes to enjoy the taste.

While having my fill of my favorite beverage, I could hear Lyra rummaging around in her pockets, followed by the telltale noise of a wrapper being broken open. Even through the fruity odor, I could detect the aroma of spiced dried meat. I think it was grear meat.

A friendly cloud must have drifted in the sun's path at that moment, because the ground was covered in momentary shade. It was a nice temporary relief from the desert sun. The breeze even seemed to have cooled, too.

But that didn't make sense. There hadn't been a single cloud the whole day.

When I looked up, I could see some odd lump in the sky blotting out the sun's light. I wondered aloud, “The hell is that?"

The moment that thought was uttered, the lump fell down towards us at a blinding speed and swiftly closed the distance. In a flash, it barreled down onto me like a ton of bricks. Sharp blades pierced into my shoulder and chest, revealing the blurry lump as none other than the goddamned deathbird. The sheer weight of it had knocked all the air out my lungs, and the talons embedded in me kept me pinned and unable to move.

“Jax!" Lyra fumbled for the guns at her belt, only to drop one of them, with the other still in her hands needing to be reloaded before she could even attempt much of anything.

The deathbird proceeded to open its maw, revealing its razor-like teeth, dripping with saliva, and dove its face down at me. Without a single thought, I thrust my metal arm into the beak and flexed my arm, putting my fist and elbow against the upper and lower 'jaws' of the beak, preventing it from biting down. Especially helpful since it was aiming right at the soft supple flesh of my chest.

Plasma bolts were then launched right into the deathbird's legs. But rather than letting me go, when Lyra's shots hit the appendages, the 'toes' clenched, resulting in the talons somehow digging themselves into my body deeper, blood welling up around the point of puncture and rolling down to soak into the sands beneath me.

Lyra shot and shot it more, but no matter how much plasma she unloaded, the bird did not care, its only focus on the prey it was mere inches from tearing into. Now, while I was no stranger to my life being threatened in this line of work, it was still just a teeny tiny bit frightening to be staring down the throat of a monster just waiting for the chance to rip me apart. Doubly so when my one saving grace was currently making creaking sounds as the 'jaws' of the beast were ever so slowly attempting to meet. The crunch of breaking metal was an agonizing sound, and seeing my metal fingers begin to warp and bend sent every fiber of my being into overdrive.

In this state of totally not panic, I watched as more and more of Lyra's shots hit various parts of the deathbird as she tried to force the animal off of me. She hit the legs, belly, chest, arms, face; nothing mattered. This damned beast simply could not be stopped.

But then…

Then a stray shot hit accidentally hit my metal limb trapped inside the bird's mouth, and I noticed something. As the plasma shot hit my arm and broke upon contact, it sent small bits of charged shrapnel to hit the interior of the monster's razor-lined beak. The bird flinched and let out a warbling cry at this.

Finally!

Something we could use.

I took a deep breath, sending pain throughout my chest as my lungs couldn't really get a full breath in what with the bird still pushing one heavy foot right down onto me. More rivulets of red life poured down as I breathed. I had to push through. I just had to.

With as much energy as I could give it, I yelled out. Screamed as loud as I was able.

“Lyra! Inside the mouth!"

Without hesitation, I heard Lyra let off several shots and watched as the bullets all sailed over my head and into the deathbird's open mouth. When the glowing projectiles hit their mark, the bird reeled back in genuine pain, its grip on my loosened as it stepped away from the source of what had harmed it. Using the opportunity, I dragged myself to my feet, seeing stars all the while as my lungs were finally able to get a full gasp of oxygen, giving me just the slightest of headrushes.

Lyra was immediately by my side, wrapping one of my arms around herself as she kept a watchful eye on the pained animal.

“You alright?" she asked, tightening her hold on me, her other hand keeping a steady aim with her gun.

“Depends," I responded. “We still got a medkit on the Queen, yeah?"

“Don't know how you think we'll be able to get there without this thing following."

“Oh. That." I unwound her furred arm from my side, pushing her back slightly. “I came up with a plan when you shot it. You probably won't like it."

“What are you—"

My original hand patted the top of her head, ruffling the fur and flopping her ears about. “Don't worry," I commanded, flashing her a stupid grin.

Then, I took a step towards the animal before us. Two things happened at that moment.

The first was the deathbird snarling and snapping its beak, kicking up dust as it prepared for one final charge.

The second thing to happen was me groping at Lyra's hip.

I let out a held breath as the bird finally dashed forward, and I enacted my plan. I did not turn away. I did not make an attempt to move. I didn't even just stand there.

No. I walked forward to meet the beast, and upon seeing it open its maw to once more intend to eat its prey.

I could hear my own heartbeat in my ears; it was like a continuous thunderclap as I made my move. It was all or nothing. Either this idea worked, or I'd be just another statistic. One more dead merc on some lonely planet.

The beast was before me, its teeth glinting in the sunlight.

I thrust my metal hand in between those razors.

The deathbird's beak inched up my arm, all the way to where the metal ended and my skin took over again at the shoulder. My fist was down the creature's throat, choking it. However, as if it thought I would try to retrieve my limb, the bird clamped its massive beak down hard, sealing its fate. Had it removed my arm from its throat right away, then what came next probably would have failed spectacularly.

I pushed my thumb down onto the object I'd palmed from my partner's belt. After a moment, a hushed PING rang out from the depths of the bird's throat, then suddenly, a bright glow shone through its neck from within.

And then, the deathbird's throat and part of its jaw suddenly turned into chunks as the PING bellowed out into a deafening BABOOM as the grenade exploded. Meat and sinew and bluish blood splattered all over me, and seeped through my clothes, soaked into my shoes.

From below the elbow, I had nothing. Useless scrap barely held together, never again to properly function.

“Well…shit." What else could I say?

I could hear Lyra's hurried steps as she ran up to me. “Are you fucking insane?" Lyra thumped me on the back when she got close.

“Can't follow us to the ship anymore," I offered a rather simple explanation.

“That…you…" She paused to collect herself before punching me in my non-blown-off arm. “Could've told me what you were thinking. Now I gotta work on making another arm. That's three days of no sleep!"

With a shrug, all I could give her was a, “Eh."

My short fox love let out an annoyed sigh. Poking one claw at my stomach, she ordered, “We're stopping at the closest station to get you cleaned up." She waved one hand, indicating all the viscera, and snarked, “Don't want that smell ruining the Queen."

It was at that exact mentioning of it that the smell finally hit me. It was just like the rotten meat from the cave. And there I was, entirely engulfed by it.

I may have vomited then.

Thankfully, the nearest station was only at the next star system, so neither Lyra nor I had to suffer dealing with the deathbird remains for too long. Of course, as one could imagine, walking through the streets covered in entrails earned us quite a few stares, turned a few heads. For some reason, it was like none of these people had ever seen a fella come back from a hard day's work or something.

Regardless,

When we returned to the Queen, Lyra decided to contact Z before we took off. To 'save fuel,' as she put it. Whatever.

After inputting the code he'd given us, there was a short delay before the comm-link connected, presenting us with the image of Z in all his long-necked glory, sitting on a large cushioned chair. The black leather of the seat back made a slight noise as he leaned closer to the screen, a warm and friendly smile upon his lips.

“Jax. Lyra. So nice to hear from you, and so soon, too." Yellowish smoke billowed out between his lips, bringing attention to the pipe he toyed with in one hand.

Joints popped as Lyra cracked her neck, either for intimidation purposes or just because, and she returned Z's smile.

“We told you, we're good at what we do."

“Never doubted for a second," he retorted, taking a drag from his miniature chimney stack. “I'm assuming this call is about the job?"

“Right you are," I cheered, snapping with my good hand.

My only hand. For now.

Z's eyes tracked my movement, and his smile fell when he noticed the broken and torn debris that was once my arm. “Oh," he mumbled, “did the deathbird do that?"

“In a manner of speaking," I said, keeping it vague. The less the client knows about the details, the better it was for them, usually. Especially so for this one, seeing as his request of not killing the bird. But come on, as if we'd accommodate such a stupid thing.

“Well, I'm sorry that happened," he said, seeming genuinely troubled at my loss.

Odd man, this Z. Not too many clients give much of a toss about a merc's wellbeing.

With my still fleshy hand, I waved away his concern. “Occupational hazard," I told him. “Not the first time this boy's himself gotten battered and bruised." Saying this, I slapped my hand against my chest, unintentionally hitting the puncture wounds that were clumsily stitched up less than twenty minutes ago. A fresh new jolt of pain washed over my whole body on this contact, forcing a shudder throughout me.

A comforting hand rubbed against my arm as Lyra pushed the conversation along.

“Now that we have the eggs, where do you want to make the trade?"

“Ah, that." Z's long neck writhed as he sat upright and looked off to the side, somewhere the camera could not see. A slender finger came up and touched his lips as he thought for a moment. “Well…" he stretched out the word for a moment longer than was necessary. “…I know a good place, but first I need to ensure you both will understand this is a, shall we say, special place. I would ask—"

“When we leave, forget we ever saw it," Lyra cut him off.

Z's eyes widened. His think lips moved but no noise left his throat. Lyra must've hit the nail on the head.

“We've been through this song and dance before," I mentioned. “Again, occupational hazard."

It too a not too unnoticeable amount of time for the snake-like man to recover. He eventually found himself, clearing his throat before saying, “I see." He called out some coordinates, after which he explained, “It's not too far from Fraza. I look forward to seeing you both again." Like before, he presented us with a warm smile, making me think again that he was being one hundred percent sincere.

True to his world, Z's little 'special place' was actually in the same system as the Fraza Station, over on a moon orbiting a nearby gas giant. It was a vibrant little place. Lush. Lots of forests and whatnot. I never would have even thought to look there. But then again, I also wouldn't have cared enough to look, had it not been part of the job. Either way, we touched down where we'd be directed, which put us right next to a mountain.

“Oh great," came my complaint when we landed. “We in for another damn cave?"

“Don't be such a baby," Lyra chided, pushing me out of the ship and onto the surface of the moon. “Besides, I don't know what you're bitching about. We're about to get paid and unlike me, you don't have to stay awake the next few days building an entire arm from scratch."

“I offered to help."

“No, you didn't," she immediately spit back.

“I always offer to help," I calmly responded. “Ain't my fault you always say you can handle it alone."

“Do you even know the first thing about making a functioning prosthetic?"

I paused. Giving it some serious thought, I bit the inside of my cheek to prepare myself before saying, “…the finger bones connected to the hand bones?"

Scrunching her face into a mean scowl, Lyra glared at me with as much forced animosity as she could before breaking and laughing at my stupid joke.

“You're such an ass," she chastised, swatting at my arm.

The laugh we shared was a sweet one. The kind that takes away any worry you might have had before.

Not that we were worried, of course.

Though, looking at the mountain, I was a little confused at why this was our supposed meeting spot. Just some large rock, essentially. A relatively breathtaking one, I imagine one could call it, but still a rock nonetheless. Walking up to the base, I stared at the stony exterior, reaching out to touch it.

“You think maybe it's one of those cliché secret passages where you press just one rock in the perfect way and it opens some kind of wall?"

I could hear her make some kind of puzzled noise, as if she wasn't entirely sure herself.

Sharp points jutted out from the face as my fingers dragged along the rocks. But nothing happened. I was beginning to lose hope until I heard something. It was a kind of metallic click. Just then, a section of the mountain's base began to shift and move, revealing itself as an expertly hidden doorway. Lyra and I automatically pulled out our guns. Well, I should say, we each pulled out one of her twin Kommanders. It was just a tad too unwieldy trying to use the Cerberus with only one hand, after all.

With our sights trained at the opening rock door, we held our breath as out stepped our pale as a sheet client, in all his wispy haired wonder.

Once more, he had that damn friendly look on his face as he welcomed us. “I was told the two of you were good workers, but to be done this swiftly?" His eyes scanned us, paying special attention to the bags slung at our sides. “Honestly, I'm tempted to throw in a little extra just for the speed alone."

Weapons were stowed away just a swiftly as they had been revealed. “And we're just as tempted to accept," came the playful tone of my foxy co-pilot.

Z let out a hearty chuckle at that. “Well, I'm sure we can discuss this a bit further inside." He stepped aside and held his hand out towards the interior of the mountain, which actually wasn't anything like the cave back on Batraxxia.

This looked more like some kind of manor hall, complete with an honest to goodness red damned carpet.

But, before either of us followed his guiding gesture, I held up a hand.

“I gotta sate my curiosity," I said, the question having bothered me since we took the gig. “Just why the hell do you even want these? You gonna make them some kind of exotic guard animal?"

“Oh, heavens no," he said, taken aback. “Do I look suicidal to you?"

“Then why?"

I couldn't explain it, but I needed the hear his answer. For some reason, it was like I was a dog chasing a car. I didn't know why I wanted it, I just knew I did.

“It's rather simple," he began. “Deathbird eggs are among the most nutrition packed eggs in the whole galaxy. Not much else comes close."

Nutrition packed.

Nutrition.

Nutrition.

“You're gonna fucking eat these?"

“Not by myself, certainly. I was hoping the two of you would like to join me in trying them out."

After the day we'd had, going through a desert and dealing with a rampaging monster, we both could only say one thing.

In unison, we blurted out, “Fuck yes."

It was, hands down, the best breakfast I'd ever had.