Prologue: Bounty Hunter
Seth frowned as he looked at the shabby door of the small pub. The friendly old lady he had spoken to a few minutes earlier had pointed it out to him as the perfect place to find the information he was looking for. But now that he was standing in front of it, he couldn't help but hesitate. He obviously wasn't afraid of being robbed or anything like that. No, he was afraid that the stench of smoke that must have permeated this squalid building would stick to him like a haunting ghost.
Nevertheless, with a resigned sigh, he decided to go in anyway.
Think of the money, Seth... once you get the bag, you can go to the best hotsprings in the universe and wash it all away.
As soon as he stepped inside the pub, the chatter he had heard outside the door immediately stopped. The eyes of the dozen or so patrons of this shady-looking establishment were all fixed on him, as if he had been illuminated by a spotlight. Seth, however, was not intimidated. He was used to attracting unwanted attention wherever he went and it was obvious that this place would be no different. On the contrary: on the small planet called Hombert-ɣ, deep in the south of the known universe, visitors were probably very rare. Unlike the nearby Hombert-σ, there were no mines or natural resources to attract the attention of the IPC or other investors. Just dust and run-down towns.
Seth walked over to the bar, where the bald bartender was busy cleaning a glass with a filthy rag, his little eyes fixed on his clothes. A different outfit would probably have made the citizens of this poor planet feel a bit more comfortable, but if Seth had spent so much money on his tailor-made suit with embroidery crafted from real gold thread, it wasn't to let it gather dust in one of his wardrobes.
And anyway, compared to his colleagues, his clothes weren't that flashy.
At least I'm not wearing a stupid cowboy hat.
After doing his best to clean one of the stools from the desert of dust that had collected on it, and putting his huge suitcase to one side, Seth took his place at the bar and addressed the host:
"A bottle of Soulglad, boss."
Unfortunately, the bald man just stared at him in confusion, as if he had just spoken in some weird alien language. Seth could only sigh.
Figured...
At that moment, he regretted once again not having bought a few crates of his favourite drink when he was in Penacony a few weeks ago. At least that sudden trip would have made some sense then.
Of course, the exported version of Soulglad couldn't hold a candle to the real thing, only drinkable within the Dreamscape, but it would still have been better than any vile beverage he would have been served in this shithole.
"A beer, please."
Perhaps eased by the fact that his customer had asked for a common drink, the bartender smiled from under his moustache. After pouring beer from an antique-looking bottle, he handed the glass to Seth and leaned over the bar to ask:
"So what's a dandy-looking ass like you doing out in the boonies?"
Seth could see his small, porcine eyes scanning his elegantly slicked back hair and the branded sunglasses resting on top of it.
"Dandy-looking ass is not my name, sir," he scoffed, "I'm Seth, a Galaxy Ranger."
There was a buzz in the pub and the barman gave him an impressed look.
"So it's true that you're back in the game, huh?"
It seemed that those stupid news had even reached this place. A few weeks ago, the skies of the Asdana system had been streaked by the comet known as Arrow's Order. Since that day, the almost forgotten fame of the Galaxy Rangers had been rekindled. Many believed that they had played a key role in defusing the crisis that an unidentified Stellaron had caused on Penacony. Seth, of course, knew that wasn't true. According to his information, the head of the Oak Family, in the midst of a delirium of omnipotence, had attempted to use the Stellaron that had created the Dreamscape to trap its inhabitants in an eternal dream. The arrival of the Galaxy Rangers had been a mere distraction, allowing the real heroes, the Nameless of the Astral Express, to resolve the situation.
But most people didn't know this, and so the Galaxy Rangers had begun to regain popularity.
If I'm called a hero of justice again, I'll vomit...
While Seth had eliminated countless criminals during his career, justice had nothing to do with it. Justice didn't pay his bills, his expensive clothes or his luxurious airship. There was only one thing that guided Seth, and it wasn't the Arrow of the Hunt, but the number of zeros in his bank account.
If Lan has a problem with that, THEY can leave me an angry voicemail.
For once, however, it seems that his new-found popularity might be useful to his cause.
"That's right. And to answer your previous question, I'm here to hunt down a villain."
Seth took a piece of paper out of his pocket. On it was sketched his target: a tall and imposing figure clad in steel armor. His name was feared throughout the cosmos: Sam, a Stellaron Hunter. But any fear Seth might have had in pursuing such a prey was smothered by the outrageous sum of money written on the poster: 9723000000 credits.
The bartender's small eyes widened as he looked at the paper. His gaze shifted back to Seth and he looked at him as if he had lost his mind:
"Do you have a death wish, young man?"
It seemed that the infamy of the Stellaron Hunters could reach even where the most popular soda brand in the universe couldn't. Seth shook his head:
"Not at all. I fully intend to bring him to justice. It may not look like it, but I know my stuff."
It was true, Seth had no intention of kicking the bucket so soon. He wanted nothing more than to retire from his dangerous profession and live a comfortable life. Those 9 billion credits would have allowed him to realise that dream several years earlier than planned. Of all the most dangerous criminals in the universe, Sam was the most susceptible to his methods of elimination. Unlike his allies Kafka and Silver Wolf, he did not operate in the shadows, nor did he have the immortality of the Xianzhou renegade Blade. Or so Seth thought at least.
But Seth's confidence didn't seem to impress the bartender. The man moved closer to him and said in a low tone, as if he were confiding a secret:
"Look, man, I don't want to put you down. From what I've heard, you Galaxy Rangers are tough sons of bitches, but this guy's no ordinary petty criminal. I heard he is a killing machine that uses humans as fuel."
Seth scoffed at the absurd story. It wasn't the first time he had heard such ridiculous rumours. Just like in the case of the Galaxy Rangers, people really liked to exaggerate when it came to the Stellaron Hunters. After all, the information he had gathered about Sam pointed in a different direction.
As much havoc and destruction as he wreaked wherever he went, this particular Stellaron Hunter was surprisingly diligent in his missions. If the collateral property damage he caused in pursuit of his targets was very high, the same could not be said in terms of human lives. Sam seemed to target mainly major criminal syndicates and IPC outposts. He would go in, blow them up and leave quickly, without taking innocent lives. More than the wild beast people described him as, Seth thought of him almost like a colleague, a professional and down to business killer.
But he didn't have time to correct people's misconceptions. He was there to kill Sam, not to defend his reputation.
"I understand your concern, but I have to go after him. Of course I think he should meet his just end, but I also really need the money. You see... my daughter is very sick and the treatment is very expensive..."
This was a lie. One he had told many times. Seth had no living creature in his life except Ammiraglio, his long-haired Persian cat. That wild beast was waiting for him in his airship, probably scratching his fancy designer sofa with its claws for the umpteenth time. Seth was sure that the fiendish creature only cared about the extremely expensive gourmet pet food he was feeding it, and not about his affection.
Of course, the bartender had no way of knowing that that furry menace was the only creature the Galaxy Ranger cared about. His demeanour changed immediately, just as Seth had predicted. People were always more willing to help when you had a sad backstory.
"So, what do you want to know? I don't understand why you're showing me the poster," he said and went back to cleaning a glass.
"According to my intel, Sam has been spotted around here. I was wondering if you knew anything about it."
The bartender laughed:
"A Stellaron Hunter, here in this hellhole? What would he be doing here?"
"Maybe he heard about your killer beer, boss! He wanted to taste it!" shouted one of the tavern's patrons, causing everyone to burst into boisterous laughter.
Seth sighed again. He doubted that even someone as despicable as a Stellaron Hunter could enjoy the sewage water they were calling beer.
It seems I have wasted my time yet again.
Seth got up and, after leaving a bunch credits on the counter, grabbed his suitcase. He was about to leave when the bartender called to him:
"Young man! Look, I am sorry that I cannot help you. If you want more information, you should ask at the IPC base, they might know something we poor people don't."
"IPC base?" Seth asked in surprise.
"Yes, they set one up here recently, a small one with people from Hombert-σ. There have been frequent attacks from the Antimatter Legion lately, so they wanted an outpost."
"The Antimatter Legion? What are they doing here?"
"Maybe they want some of my beer too!"
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The IPC base was one of the smallest Seth had ever seen. Just a few watchtowers and a wall surrounding a hangar and a garrison.
This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road. If you spot it on Amazon, please report it.
The relationship between the Interastral Peace Corporation and the Galaxy Rangers had always been a strange one. While they both dealt with criminals, the Rangers often found themselves pursued by the IPC themselves, for their habit of violating intergalactic law during their hunts.
Seth, however, had never had such problems. Of course, he had flouted the law countless times during his bounty hunting career, but he had never been careless enough to get caught. Maintaining a good relationship with the IPC had also always been a priority for him. They had a lot of money, and if there was any chance of getting a piece of the pie, he wanted to be in the front row.
So when he approached the guard at the door, he put on his warmest smile.
"Good morning, agent," he said.
The IPC guard, leaning lazily on his halberd, did not return the enthusiasm.
"State your business," he ordered, looking Seth up and down, clearly surprised to see someone so well dressed in that place.
"I am Seth, a Galaxy Ranger. I was hoping I could help you out, since I heard you were having some problems with the Antimatter Legion," Seth replied undeterred.
Hearing these words, the IPC agent's demeanour changed instantly. He let go of the halberd, took Seth's hands in his own and shouted:
"A Galaxy Ranger?! And you came to help us?!" he exclaimed.
Seth was taken aback by his enthusiasm, but he nodded.
"Ah, finally some good news! Steve, take my place, I'll escort our guest to our commander," the guard called to one of his comrades and then opened the gate to the base, motioning for Seth to follow.
As they walked towards the main building, Seth looked around in surprise. This place didn't look like the small garrison of a peaceful planet at all. It was almost a war zone. Half-destroyed IPC mechs were scattered all over the place, with engineers doing their best to salvage them, and a few field hospitals had been set up to take care of the wounded.
Seth wanted to ask what the hell was going on, but he didn't want to reveal his lack of knowledge. He also knew that soldiers loved to complain. As predicted, it only took a minute for the guard to speak out:
"You are a Aeon-send, sir! The reinforcements we asked for are nowhere to be seen. I was afraid we would soon be overrun, but with a hero of justice like you around, perhaps we can survive until help arrives."
"Is the Antimatter Legion giving you that much trouble... typical IPC inefficiency," Seth commented.
The guard chuckled:
"That's right. But this time, sir, I sort of understand. I really don't understand what all these Voidrangers are doing here on this stupid dusty planet."
"You've been here a long time?"
"No, I was stationed on the other planet. It was pretty shitty there too, but a lot better than here. Man, I can't wait to get back to Pier Point."
By now they had arrived at the commander's office. After nodding to him, the guard left Seth at his door. After knocking and entering, the Galaxy Ranger was confronted by an exasperated looking IPC officer. He couldn't have been more than 30 years old, but his face looked as if he had aged a few decades in the space of a few days.
"Hello, I'm Seth, a Galaxy Ranger," Seth repeated, "I was hoping to exchange a few words with you."
The officer's face lit up as suddenly as his subordinate's:
"A Galaxy Ranger... so Qilphot hasn't forgotten us... Welcome to this hellhole, sir."
"Tough times, eh? Glad I can help," Seth replied.
"You bet. Three attacks in one day, half our personnel injured and we are running out of mechs. We really needed someone like you to show up. Did you intercept our SOS? I know that's how you guys work. Don't worry, I won't fine you this time," the officer chuckled nervously.
"Guilty as charged," Seth lied through his teeth.
The more he looked at this base, the more he knew that he had to leave the planet as soon as possible. Of course, he didn't want to say that to someone who was looking at him like a saviour. He also wanted to get the information he was looking for.
"Don't worry, no Voidranger who's had the misfortune to meet me has stayed alive long enough to tell the tale. I'll stick with you until the reinforcements arrive," Seth lied again and held out his hand.
"Thank you. I'll see that you're properly compensated," the officer said, taking it.
A glimpse of desire sparked in Seth's heart. The lure of money always had that effect on him. But it only lasted a second. This small regiment certainly didn't have the means to pay his usual fees, and he wasn't the type to do charity work. Nevertheless, he nodded before asking:
"Don't worry about that. I'm here for another reason, too, and I was hoping you could help me."
"Of course, if it is in my power."
For the second time that day, Seth took Sam's wanted poster out of his pocket. This time, however, the reaction of the person it was shown to was completely different.
"How did you find out? It was supposed to be classified information," the officer commented, looking at the iron-clad figure depicted in the piece of paper.
"I have my sources. So he was spotted here?" Seth inquired.
The officer seemed to hesitate, but then began to speak in a low tone:
"Look, I'll be in a lot of trouble if my superiors know I've revealed this, so keep quiet about it. It's true. Two days ago, two cargo ships went missing in orbit around this planet. We sent some of our people to see what had happened. They disappeared too, but not before sending back a picture: Sam the Stellaron, Hunter, about to crash into them".
So it's true.
The fact that Sam was suddenly taking care of cargo ships was a bit strange. It went against the profile Seth had constructed of him. But when both his sources and the IPC agreed, there was no way around it.
I'm going to search this star system in an out.
That was all he needed. Now that he knew Sam was here, he was ready to begin his hunt. Smiling at the officer, Seth said:
"Perfect, thank you. I'm going to take a nap at the hotel for now, I'll be back as soon as I..."
He didn't finish his sentence. A loud alarm sounded throughout the base, and at the same time the officer's phone began to ring. The IPC member answered immediately. Seth saw his expression change from one of concern to one of terror.
"HOW MANY?!! I understand, get into position and make sure you inform Command!"
After hanging up the phone, the officer hurried over to a small rack to retrieve a rifle and halberd.
"Sir, I really hope you are ready for a hard battle," he said, preparing to leave.
"Of course I am. I'll get to a high ground and provide support." Seth said confidently.
"The watchtowers are the best place for that. I can't go with you, but I don't think you'll have any trouble finding your way."
This was the best case scenario. Sneaking out of the base would be easy with the chaos Seth could hear brewing outside the building. By the time the IPC officer realised he was gone, he'd be on his airship.
As the IPC member hurried out, Seth followed calmly. Soldiers were running left and right in panic. From the sound of it, they were in for a big attack.
Hopefully they will get the reinforcements.
The gate through which he had entered the base had been left unguarded as the defences had been organised on the opposite side.
Seth's eyes went to the watchtowers. It would only have taken a few minutes to get up there. He could have checked out the situation before he left. He had no reason to, but it didn't cost him anything either. With a sigh, the bounty hunter followed the sudden impulse. When he reached the top, the scene that unfolded before his sharp eyes was nothing like he had imagined.
In the distance, closing in on the base, was a small purple army. Reavers, Distorters, Tramplers and Eliminators, hundreds of them. This attack was definitely overkill for such a small garrison. The IPC was doomed, even someone unfamiliar with the battlefield could see that.
They should just run for it, leave it to someone else.
That was what Seth was going to do. He grabbed his suitcase and prepared to descend the stairs. But he didn't.
Leave it to who? They were in the middle of nowhere. Even if reinforcements arrived, would they matter? The big shots would probably send ten people and call it a day. Ten young people who didn't know any better, just like the officer he had spoken to two minutes before.
Cursing Lan, Seth opened the case and took out his sniper rifle. As usual, Seth was mesmerised by the sight of the clear black metal. Seth had only two loves in his life. His cat and this weapon he had made with his own hands. He had personally retrieved its blueprint from the archives of the Genius Society. Not even the bigwigs of the ICP could boast of having such advanced weaponry at their disposal. And even if they did, there was no way they could match Seth's mastery of it.
In one fluid motion, the Galaxy Ranger rested his rifle against the railing of the scout tower. Soon he was in his element. Across the scope he could see the heads of the Antimatter legionares bursting like balloons, their armor pierced like butter by the rifle's hypersonic bullets. One, two, three... a dozen, a hundred. The army's ranks were being decimated faster than the Legion's airships could deploy them.
If only I could get a good payout on this.
Seth was enjoying himself. And he hated himself for that. It was a demeanour that didn't suit a distinguished gentleman like him. If people started to think he was some kind of hero instead of a professional killer, it would only cause problems.
So, having reduced the Antimatter army to a manageable size for the small IPC garrison, he lowered his rifle and prepared to leave.
That was when it happened.
A flaming comet fell from the sky and landed in the middle of the IPC soldiers.
"What the hell!" shouted Seth.
Was this some kind of new orbital weapon? But as the cloud of debris around the impact dissipated, he realised it wasn't.
...S-Stellaron Hunter Sam?
A tall figure, clad in imposing armor roaring with crimson flames, stood surrounded by charred corpses and melted mech remains.
Seth couldn't believe his eyes: why was Sam working with the Antimatter Legion? Of course the Stellaron Hunters were terrorists, but they were supposed to be arch-enemies of Nanook's army. But as Sam began to incinerate the remaining IPC members with the flame vents installed under his arms, completely ignoring the Voidrangers behind him, Seth finally convinced himself.
Bastard... but I guess this is my lucky day.
The Galaxy Ranger grabbed his rifle. This huge gamble he had taken was going to pay off big time. But when he looked at the armoured Stellaron Hunter through his scope, he felt the whole world crumble under his feet.
What... is the meaning of this?
That armor... wasn't Sam's.
The helm was distinctly different, the visor was red rather than cyan between its golden bars. The shoulders of the armour were less pointed, decorated with red wing crests, and its build was less sturdy and more elegant. Gold plating adorned the chest, along with two small red banners.
Is this... a different model?
Like any self-respecting bounty hunter. Seth had researched his prey's past. It had been surprisingly difficult to find the origin of the strange armor worn by the Stellaron Hunter called Sam. The reason was obvious once he had found out why. That artefact came from a long lost past and was even older than some Aeons.
The SAMs, Strategic Assault Mechs, had been the soldiers of the Republic of Glamoth. This small and insignificant planet had been doomed by the attention of Tayzzyronth's Swarm. But they had not gone down without a fight. Using their rather advanced genetic engineering, they had created a generation of super-soldiers with enhanced senses but a very limited lifespan. They had formed the Iron Cavalry, a special force that wore armor made from the chitin of the bugs they were destined to die fighting. To inspire them in their hopeless struggle, Glamoth had created a vast lie, posing as a mighty empire with a false empress at its head.
But it was all for nothing. Glamoth had fallen, along with its elite soldiers.
But not all of them.
A single survivor had travelled through time to ravage the present cosmos: Sam, the Stellaron Hunter. Seth didn't know how it had happened, he suspected it might have involved a cryogenic chamber or something like that.
It was an unlikely story, but he could believe it. But could it happen twice?
This is not what I signed up for.
Another remnant of the Cavalry had appeared before his eyes, and unlike Sam, it didn't seem to be taking a measured approach to destruction. Seth had to get out of there, and fast. The new enemy had no bounty on his name, there was no need to try and take him out.
But as Seth's eyes fell on the remaining contents of his suitcase, he let out a deep sigh.
Why am I like this?
He wanted to rationalise it. He could have done this as a test, to see if he could actually kill Sam when he met him. He'd done his research, but a little practice wouldn't hurt.
It was all bullshit. Seth would never waste a bullet that costed so many credits just for a trial. He had contacted the most renowned Punklorde weaponsmith to make it especially for his target. And now he was about to waste it.
"With this, I'm done doing good deeds for the rest of my life," Seth blurted out as he loaded his rifle with the special ammunition.
He stood up again and prepared the rifle. His breath was steady as he aimed for the head of the mysterious Iron Cavalry. His finger rested firmly on the trigger.
A loud boom echoed from the deserted IPC base. Seth instantly saw the head of his enemy turn towards him. But it was too late: the bullet was too fast, even a superhuman couldn't have dodged it.
And the target didn't dodge. Because he didn't need to. The bullet melted in mid-air, vaporised.
"Ahahahahah!" Seth laughed out loud. His eyes, filled with the power of the Hunt, had clearly seen what had happened. And they had also understood that he would not get out of this place alive.
Seth watched with a slight smile as flaming crimson wings erupted from the armor's shoulders. As the soldier of a long lost empire rose into the air, the world began to burn. The corpses at his feet were instantly reduced to ashes. Even the steel walls of the IPC base began to melt like snow in the midday sun. The air itself soon became unbreathable.
"Damn you, Lan... couldn't I have chosen a better path to follow?!"
Seth was furious. He had already paid a deposit for his funeral. A very bombastic one. He had thought that since he didn't have any loved ones, some strangers would come to pay their respects if he organised one that was fancy enough.
But that wasn't going to happen.
As it turned out, he was to be cremated against his will.
As he fell to the ground, gasping for breath, his hand went into his pocket. Inside was the remote control for his airship. With his last ounce of strength he pressed it, hoping that the signal would be strong enough to send the command for an emergency launch. When his skin began to burn, the last thought of Seth, the Galaxy Ranger was:
I hope I left enough food out for Ammiraglio...