Chapter 1: Dead Space
Kit drifted in the ruined cockpit of The Blazer, weightless, groggy, and bleeding from a cut above his brow. The emergency lights flickered, casting the shattered interior in sickly red. Sparks crackled from exposed wires. A console screen flickered static before flashing a single warning: CRITICAL SYSTEM FAILURE.
Kit blinked. Right... bounty hunters. He must've blacked out after the last hit. The ship was totaled, floating dead in Zero Space. No shields, barely any hull integrity, and—he glanced around—no gravity. That meant the stabilizers were shot. Fantastic.
He twisted midair, scanning for his crew.
Two lifeless bodies floated near the rear—his old comrades, the feline twins. Their bodies drifted in eerie silence, bullet wounds peppering their torsos. Kit clenched his jaw. No time to grieve.
Then he spotted Bark, the only one left alive. The golden-furred humanoid dog was unconscious, strapped into his seat. Blood pooled around him, but his chest still rose and fell—barely.
Kit cursed under his breath. "Hang in there, buddy."
A voice broke the silence. "Ah, you're awake. That's unfortunate."
Kit groaned. "Kevin. Status?"
The Blazer's onboard AI, Kevin, had the personality of a sarcastic bureaucrat with zero patience for Kit's antics. The AI's voice was calm, almost bored. "Well, let's see. Shields are gone, weapons offline, life support at 12%. Oh, and your ship is currently a floating coffin. Would you like the good news?"
Kit exhaled. "Please."
"There is none."
"Fantastic."
Pushing off the control panel, Kit floated toward Bark. He rummaged through the medkit, tearing out a stim injector. He pressed it against Bark's neck. The dog groaned but didn't wake. At least he was alive.
"Kevin, give me something useful. How long until another attack?"
"Seven hostiles inbound. ETA: Five minutes. And before you ask—no, I cannot fix the ship in that time. I am an AI, not a miracle worker."
Kit ran a hand through his messy hair. He needed time. "Transfer yourself into my wrist comm."
"That process takes three minutes," Kevin said, deadpan. "Which, conveniently, is just enough time for you to rethink all your life choices."
"Less talking, more transferring."
Kit secured Bark to his seat and gripped the panel for leverage as he maneuvered through the ruined cockpit. As he braced against a bulkhead, his foot caught on one of the floating bodies. He froze for a moment, exhaling through his nose before gently pushing his old comrade aside.
No time. Survive now. Mourn later.
The cockpit trembled as the gravity system suddenly rebooted. Kit hit the floor hard, barely catching himself. A groan behind him signaled Bark waking up.
The dog grunted, eyes half-lidded. "We dead yet?"
"Not yet," Kit muttered. "But give it a few minutes."
Bark let out a weak chuckle before clutching his side. "Figures. What's the plan?"
"Same as always—don't die."
Before Bark could reply, a series of muffled thuds echoed through the ship.
Boarding clamps.
"Oh good," Kevin's voice chirped from Kit's wrist. "They're here. Do try not to get shot in the face."
Kit cracked his neck, reaching for his twin pistols. "Alright. Let's show these bastards why I'm worth eight billion credits."
The first explosion rocked the ship. The bounty hunters were coming in.
The hull groaned as the boarding clamps finished locking in. Then came the breach—an explosion that sent shrapnel flying into the corridor. Smoke poured in as figures in red armor stormed through the opening, weapons raised.
Kit was already moving. He dove behind a console as energy bolts zipped past, scorching metal. He popped up, pistols drawn, and fired. First shot—dead center of a bounty hunter's visor. The body crumpled. Second shot—throat, gurgling scream, then silence.
Bark, still bleeding but fueled by adrenaline, braced against the doorway with his rifle. Unlike Kit's plasma-based weapons, Bark's gun fired solid lead—big, heavy rounds that tore through armor. He squeezed the trigger. A slug caught a human bounty hunter in the chest, punching through his plate. The guy staggered—Bark corrected his aim and put another round through his skull.
The bounty hunters weren't amateurs. They moved in coordinated squads, covering each other's flanks. Kit barely had time to duck as a bear-like humanoid swung a shock baton at his head. He twisted, using the momentum to kick off the floor and roll backward, firing mid-spin. Three shots. The first missed. The second clipped the bear's shoulder. The third struck his gut—burning a hole straight through him.
But they kept coming.
Kit snapped his guns toward two bounty hunters flanking Bark and fired off a double shot—one in the neck, one in the temple. Both dropped. Bark grunted as a bullet grazed his shoulder, but he powered through, unloading another burst that shredded a tiger-like bounty hunter's abdomen.
Kevin's voice crackled through Kit's wrist comm. "You seem to be having fun. Would you like my analysis?"
"Unless it involves telling me we're winning, Kevin, I don't wanna hear it!"
"Ah. Then you'll be disappointed. Statistically, you are losing. Badly."
Kit gritted his teeth, reloading. Another squad was pushing forward. Too many. Even if they held the ship, more would keep coming. He glanced at the surrounding vessels, a wild idea forming in his head.
"Bark," he called, dodging another burst of gunfire. "How do you feel about self-destruction?"
Bark's ears flicked. "Excuse me?"
"We're surrounded. If we escape, they'll hunt us down anyway. But if I blow up The Blazer, we take them out too."
Bark ducked behind cover, panting. "That's insane."
"Thank you! Kevin, initiate self-destruct."
Kevin's response was instant. "That would be an irreversible process. I assume you're making a well-thought-out—never mind. Explosion in five minutes."
The ship rocked as Kit and Bark sprinted toward the hangar. A few bounty hunters realized what was happening and charged, weapons blazing. Kit weaved through gunfire, firing over his shoulder. A shot hit one in the chest. Another went down clutching a wounded leg.
They reached the hangar—just barely. The emergency shuttle was small, barely enough for one person, let alone two. It wasn't built for combat. Kit yanked open the hatch, practically shoving Bark inside.
"Three minutes," Kevin chimed.
Kit leaped in just as plasma fire erupted around them, scorching the hull. Bark gritted his teeth, slamming the launch sequence. The ship shuddered as it detached, thrusters igniting.
Through the viewport, they saw The Blazer—Kit's beloved ship—surrounded by enemy vessels. The countdown hit zero.
Then, fire. The explosion ripped through the hangar, engulfing everything in a shockwave of destruction. Bounty hunters, ships, debris—all consumed in the blast.
Kit let out a victorious laugh. "HA! TAKE THAT!" Then his face dropped. "Wait. The Blazer..."
Reality hit him like a brick. His ship. His beautiful, reckless, perfectly-chaotic ship. Gone.
He slumped in his seat. "She's gone, Bark... my girl's gone."
Bark, still clutching his bleeding side, gave him a look. "You lost your whole crew, and you're crying over a ship?"
Kit sniffed. "She had cup holders, man."
Bark sighed, leaning back. Silence hung between them as the emergency shuttle drifted into deep space.
Finally, Kit exhaled, rubbing his eyes. "So... where to now?"
Bark chuckled dryly. "Hell if I know."
The stars stretched endlessly before them, and The Blazer burned behind them. Chapter one was over.
Whatever came next, it was only the beginning.
TO BE CONTINUED...