I headed straight for the medbay, which was an essential add-on for any mercenary’s ship, to scan him and see what medical treatments he needed. It was the least I could do for him. After that, I didn’t know. I had no idea what would happen next. My mentor’s words, uttered long ago, and likely without realizing how important they were, had probably just saved my life.Know when to walk away, Gilrox.
And so, I did.
Chapter
Two
Location is Everything
I let outa sigh of relief when I saw the creature’s injuries were not that bad. Scans revealed nothing worse than some burns, which I could treat easily right here on my ship. I’d brought the little creature to theAndromeda’smedical module. This was a section I had not scrimped on. It was a large, self-sanitizing room with a modern treatment center, where one could lie back and let nanobots repair injuries without having to clean up blood afterwards. Little did I know I would one day be tending to little creatures like this one.
The scan had also given me some information aboutwhat,exactly, I had rescued. The computer’s database identified the little one as an adult male of the species Vradic-89D. It was a surprise—though it shouldn’t have been—that he was not native to the planet I had just rescued him from.
“Computer, what is the most likely reason this individual was found on the planet Deltino?”
Individual, species Vradic-89D, was likely brought to Deltino to combat pests known to feed on the pitrid mushroom.The species is frequently bred in captivity and sold to pitrid cartels for pest management.
Now everything made sense. I looked at the poor little creature. He hadn’t belonged there any more than I had. And after his usefulness ran out, he’d have been discarded, just like any old mercenary would be. I felt a kinship toward the Vradic, who’d had no home, and no choice thus far in his life.
I charged up the healing wand, set the correct parameters for this creature and his wounds, and ran it over the burns on his paws and skin. The little creature relaxed as I did this. The fear in his eyes quietly abated, and I took it as a small victory that a big, scarred creature such as myself could soothe a small injured creature that likely thought himself doomed.
Afterwards, I set the wand to administer a light sedation so he could heal fully, and then used the wand over my own wounds. Thankfully, they were not bad enough to need a session in the full treatment bed with the nanobots. As I watched the little animal blink drowsily at me, I wondered what I would do with him. He certainly couldn’t go back to the planet Deltino. He didn’t belong there, and besides, there wasn’t a habitat to return to. My associates and I had seen to that.
I’d keep him until a suitable habitat could be found, which wouldn’t be easy since this little one was likely bred in captivity. Careful examination showed tattooed markings in the inner flap of one ear, which confirmed it. He needed a name, if I was going to live with him for a while. I settled on Silli—nothing special, just the word for dark purple in my native language. It was the color of his coat, after all, which I imagined would be quite striking when his fur grew back.
With a sigh, I wrapped him in a blanket and took him with me to the ship’s command center. I was very proud of theAndromeda. She was a large ship—really, she should have had a crew of four or five, but I didn’t want one. I preferred to workalone. I didn’tlikegiving orders. I didn’tliketraining people, and Ireally didn’t liketalking to people about nonessential things. Small talk was the keenest torture outside of, well, actual torture. All of those things came with having a crew.
Instead, I had automated a lot of the ship’s functions so that the computer system was linked to my voice commands. The ship was a modified Darkstar III-class warship with an impressive arsenal, a large cargo bay, powerful engines, and I had made some upgrades to her interior to make her just luxurious enough to be a fit home for a full-time mercenary. But I wasn’t a mercenary anymore.
I looked at the screen in front of me, knowing what I had to do next. It was suddenly harder than I thought it was going to be. Maybe it had been a snap decision to leave my line of work, but it had been a long time coming. I knew that my days of fighting had to come to an end, one way or another, but now that I was actually doing it—not giving up, but saying goodbye to the only life I’d known for most of my life—it was more difficult than I’d anticipated.
“Computer, access my account in the guild registry. Access code Gilrox33928-B.”
Voice verification enacted.Connection achieved. Welcome, Gilrox Ban-Ver-Mos, Rank V, Level Ten Mercenary. What is your purpose for contact?
I sighed again. “Submit resignation, effective immediately.”
Unsurprisingly, the guild system made me verify my decision no fewer than six times, including a retinal scan, analyzation of voice frequency, and, most annoyingly, a stated reason.
“Computer, input reason asretirement.”
The computer was silent for a moment. I knew that once the guild looked at all the data, they would see my age and length of service, and there would be no follow-up questions.
Finally, I received the reply:Resignation accepted. The guild thanks you for your service and wishes you good fortune in all your future endeavors.
That was that. A few spoken words (and scans) and I was no longer a mercenary for the guild. My chest felt light, but both of my hearts beat harder as this new status sunk in. I glanced over at Silli for a brief distraction from the mix of feelings. He had snuggled into the blanket in the seat beside me. Even though he wasn’t much of a copilot, he was still very muchthere. Whether I wanted to admit it or not, I was responsible for him. That gave me a purpose, at least.
As the little Vradic-89D fell into what was probably the first peaceful sleep he’d known in more years than I wanted to think about, I leaned back and thought about what I was going to do next. I certainly couldn’t float around in space forever. Now that I wasn’t going from job to job, I didn’t want theAndromedato be my entire home. I wanted my feet on the ground. Bare, if possible, now that I no longer had to worry about weaponry and armor. How odd it would be to not constantly worry about injuries.
So, what did I want? I wanted to be somewhere near water. I wanted to be left alone. The idea of living somewhere populated, like a village or a city, was awful. I didn’t want to have to talk to somebody every day.
Perhaps most importantly, I needed to find a location where the resources had already been taken, or one that didn’t have any to begin with. The last thing I wanted was to deal with people like me coming and destroying everything. I also wanted to avoid places loaded with oversight. Military forces that policed each system didn’t tangle with the mercenary guild, which usually had far more resources than they did. Plus, I suspected the guild paid off or threatened any planetary governments that tried to put up a fuss. The guild was given a wide berth andprobably too much leeway, but a single, retired mercenary was an easy target.
I pulled up my ship’s database, which was quite extensive from having traveled from one side of the quadrant to the other, and sometimes a little beyond. I inputted all my parameters, including some necessities, such as ideal gravity conditions, breathable air, resources for food and water, of course, as well as my other personal requirements.
Little Silli stretched out a paw in his sleep, spreading sharp-tipped toes, and let out a cute little grunt as he yawned. Then he rolled into a ball and fell back asleep. I wanted to pet him pretty badly and had to force myself not to. The realization dawned that I was going to keep him. Unless a perfect habitat with lots of other little Vradic-89Ds came into existence, I’d keep him safe.
I shook my head even as the thought became solid and real in my mind. As the computer worked, searching through every star system in its catalog, I realized that irritating young mercenary was right: Ihadacquired a pet.
