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"This is the target."
Fade looked at the hologram carefully, noting every feature, every flaw. For a class X war criminal, the target looked very ordinary. He could have fit in with any civilian crowd. The eyes, however, gave him away. Cold and hard like the truest of diamonds, they belonged to a warrior who'd burn through stars to get what he wanted.
Fade engraved it all into his memory.
"I have it," he said.
His Guide inclined his head in acknowledgement. The hologer in the palm of his hand flicked off and the target's image disappeared. The Guide slipped the hologer into the pocket of his black suit jacket, and fixed Fade with his crimson eyes.
"Be careful, Fade. It's a straightforward retrieval, but this man is X-class for a reason."
To that, Fade merely gave a half-smile. When one lived as long as he did, things like class and danger held little meaning.
He turned his head and looked out the shuttle's viewport. The 14th Unigal Station loomed like a planet in space, its massive size both impressive and daunting. Considered neutral territory, it served as a re-supply and repair station for any and all galactic ships who could afford its exorbitant fees. In short, it was the perfect place for a criminal to hide.
That is, if the hunter set on their tail wasn't someone like Fade.
"I'll be back soon," he said.
The Guide crossed one leg over the other, and leaned back into the synthetic leather of his chair. He didn't say anything. He didn't need to.
They both knew he would wait, whether it was minutes or an eternity. Such was his duty.
Fade closed his eyes and envisioned the target. Every detail, every essence, he grabbed hold of and drew it close in his mind. Then he warped.
Temperature plummeted, his next breath fogged, and the space around him faded. He tensed, bracing for when his world finished shifting. Who knew what he would find?
A heartbeat later, he stood in an oven, with scorched walls and molten wounds. Heat radiated from the half-melted metal, making the air hard to breathe. From the looks out of it, he was standing in the bowels of the station itself.
And there, standing in the midst of a massive scorch mark, was his target. The man's fists glowed blindingly orange.
Fade raised his brows.
This guy actually managed to escape the military with intact incendiary ports? No wonder he was X-class.
"Antol Minwell," Fade stated. "You've really made a mess, haven't you?"
The target's gaze snapped to Fade; his eyes widening.
"Who the heck are you?" He laughed incredulously, as if disbelieving someone would actually dare to come after him.
Fade gave him a pleasant smile. "I'm IGP. I'll give you the obligatory stand down and come peacefully bit, but I have a feeling you're going to decline."
Antol sneered. He raised his glowing fists towards the nearest wall. He opened his hands, palms flat. Brilliance exploded from them, so bright that Fade bit back a shout of alarm.
The freaking madman!
He thought of the shuttle outside and warped. He appeared back in his seat. The Guide showed zero surprise at his sudden reappearance.
"Guy's got live incendiary ports. That would have been good to know beforehand."
"My apologies," the Guide said. "It was neglected from his profile, but I should have been more thorough in my research. The military probably assumed no one would be willing to go after him otherwise."
Fade snorted. "They forgot about me, didn't they?"
"It's been 224 years since you served. You better hope they forgot about you."
"Yeah, yeah. They'd love another rat in their lab, I'm sure."
The Guide merely arched a brow.
"Right. Well, I better go get my guy before he blows up the station."
If the Guide gave a response, it was lost in Fade's warp.
When he popped back into the room, he got a face full of acrid smoke. He waved it away, and squinted at the large hole blown through the far wall. Its edges glowed yellow from residual heat, while a few drops of liquid metal dripped down.
Fade narrowed his eyes. And again, he warped.
He appeared right behind Antol, who was running through an ugly metal corridor. Fade drove a fist forward, catching Antol between the shoulder blades.
Antol stumbled, nearly falling to his knees. He caught himself at the last second and twisted, one palm reaching for Fade. Fade sidestepped, while he chopped at the criminal's wrist. The strike forced his arm down.
Antol grunted. Then he shifted his weight and snapped up a kick. Fade blocked it with his arm, letting his armor absorb the worst of it. He lunged, the heel of his palm aimed for Antol's face. It never landed.
The criminal twisted out of the way. Both of his hands came up again, heat sparking from the implanted incendiary ports. Fade slammed the heel of his boot into Antol's knee.
As it turned out, he wore unyielding, space-ready armor. Antol didn't. The math wasn't hard to figure out. Something gave and Antol howled.
He didn't fall, however. He swung a palm around towards Fade, and Fade had no choice but to leap out of the way. At the same time, Antol held out his other palm in the opposite direction. White orbs of plasma spat out of either hand, and Fade shut his eyes, turning his head away. The brilliant flash still reached him through his eyelids, even as he shielded his face with his arm.
A wall of heat slapped him, as did a deafening boom. It left his ears ringing. He looked over, spots filling his vision, and saw his target stagger through a new hole in a new wall. This one led into a large room populated with civilians.
Fade snarled. That was a room full of potential hostages and/or casualties. Once again, he warped.
The second he appeared in front of Antol, he drove a fist into the man's face. Since Antol was already unsteady, it knocked him right off his feet. Fade followed him down and planted a knee into Antol's torso.
Antol sneered at him, his eyes cold as death itself. Instead of struggling to get free, he simply held out a hand, aiming at the nearest huddle of shocked civilians.
You want me? Then I'll take the whole ship down with me, his eyes seemed to say.
Fade's lip curled.
He leaned forward, grasping each of Antol's wrists. With a fierce wrench, he pinned them to the criminal's chest with his entire body weight. At this point, he was practically laying on the other man.
Orange light spilled out from between them, reflecting against his silver armor.
Fade smiled. Try it.
It wouldn't be the first time he got blown up. And with his luck, it would be far from the last.
