I am Kuri Analyzatore, bounty hunter (Fan fiction)

[Finkelfantomen]

Somehow… Palpadrine returned. I don’t know who that person is though, and it has nothing to do with this story. But making my way through the local population in this crowded heap of s… people, I heard some of the local gentry talking about how he had returned. They had a heated argument about how his return was even possible, considering this and that, (whoever he was now again). But since it wasn’t on my to do list, I filed it under “we will never know” and moved on. I know who I am though, and I am Kuri Analyzatore, the best bounty hunter and “seeker” outside of the Void! If there was a "somehow" on my list it wouldn't take long for it to be a "This is why.”  I am that good.

Then, generally, I did not deal with philosophical questions but with people who I had to turn from “returned” to “had been” or “no longer living”, unless the job specifically stated that the man (or woman) had to be taken in alive. I didn't really like the "bring in alive" ones.  It meant more load to carry back to the ship than just the parts needed for the ID. I had been in this business long enough to learn to appreciate the easy life. 

Sometimes I was hired to retrieve missing objects too. And this was such a time. A time I had to return to… the “smells.”

Cetus… The cesspit of humanity… or the last bastion of defense, pride and “up yours Grineer scum!” It all depended on your perspective, I guess. But your nose could not be persuaded to intake the smell from the fish-stands and be allowed to have different opinions about it. It was always… pungent. Making your nose wish it was on the back of your head, instead of leading you towards those hanging scaly things.  It made inhaling feel like a nest of bees followed the air into your nose.

But the man I was looking for at this moment had his residence close to those fish stands deeper into the city. So, my nose would have to take one for the team this time. It would be rewarded later with the more pleasant smell of well-aged Deimos whisky. Later, when the bounty was collected.

I never liked crowds of people. But here they were unavoidable. It felt like being back at the academy, running the gauntlet once again for some misdemeanor, or just the sergeant’s fun.  The trick had been to let them hit you hard enough to feel like they done their job, but swiftly glide away from the blow just enough to not get seriously hurt. It was the same here, but with elbows instead of sticks. If you avoided contact too much you signaled weakness. And weakness invited predators.

Suddenly a hand brushed against my thigh, so slight and nimble that it would have gone unnoticed by a common man. Years of battle-hardened reflexes kicked in and my left hand shot down like a cobra. As I looked down at my catch my eyes met the face of a young child, a girl aged no more than nine or ten. She looked back up at me with eyes filled of terror, realizing she had been caught in the act. A pickpocket! And a not so skilled one. I gently shook my head and released my grip. But I respected her profession and will to survive. I had been there myself. Perhaps she would learn from this experience and be better at it the next time? Anyway, I had bigger fish to catch than children trying to make ends meet.

A short time later I arrived at my destination. A brown tent (like most of the others) residing just behind the fish market. For a second my left hand rose by itself, and the fingers attached to it clamped my nose shut. Then my brain willed it loose again. "Take the pain, do the job, get the money." I swiftly moved away the stained cloth acting as a door and made my way in. My right hand had unconsciously moved now too, and had pulled my Nukor handgun out of its holster.

As the "door" was swept aside it revealed a small space with a table in the middle, and two men placed on each side of it. The men were clad in ragged clothes and one of them was without doubt a Grineer, trying to pass for an Ostron. A spy making shady business in the last sanctuary for the humans! They had been examining some kind of statue, an artifact of old, now wiggling at the center of the table as they both let go of it. What their intentions were with it was no longer important. The statue was what I came here for.

The two men shifted focus and turned their attention towards me, staring down the microwave emitter of my Nukor. Their faces froze. I recognized the expression as I had seen it countless of times. Brains trying to quickly calculate ways of survival. Fight? Flee? Bargain? Beg?

The Grineer spy defied logic and came to a conclusion before the human did, and reached for his Karak rifle resting beside him by the table. The human rose to his feet exclaiming "Wait!". The beam from my Nukor vaporized them both in an instant. And did it silent enough not to get noticed too. That is one of the few times I've appreciated being in a crowded and noisy area. And I had to admit that the fish stands hid the stench of vaporized flesh well.

Without warning a sharp pain made my left shoulder twitch violently. A stream of red, my own blood, flew from it towards the now vaporized men. Clever. They had a third man watching outside. But he wasn't that clever, or at least not skillful enough. Because I was still alive.

I threw myself fully into the tent, forcing my left hand through the pain to close the cloth door behind. Firing the Nukor at a man in the outside crowd would result in mass murder. And this was the wrong time and place for that.

I pressed myself to the floor as beams of light started to penetrate the darkness, one, two, three, four more bullet holes appeared in the tent cloth and kept the light growing in numbers. My brain raced! How do I get out of this one alive?

Three more bullets tore holes in the fabric of the tent. The second went right through my left hand. I bit down a scream while clenching my right fist around the handle of the Nukor. Couldn't let him know I was still alive, eh? Then the adrenaline lowered just a bit and my brain started to function again. I let go of my Nukor and pulled up the Holocator from my right pocket. Activating it made a Vapor specter appear from nothing. As it moved to the rear of the tent it started to take the tent with it. Five more bullets from the killer outside followed it in its back. Then I rushed forward.

As I leaped out from where the door of the tent once was, I saw the shooter, gun in hand and a slightly surprised face. The butt of my Nukor hit him over the mouth a split second later and then he hit the ground, lights out. No time to finish the job though. He might have friends around. My weakened left hand grasped the statue from the table as I took off into the crowd. No shots followed, but the smell of fish stayed in my nose.

After keeping low for an hour, I dared to move again and left the dark corner I had been hiding in. My shoulder hurt like hell, but at least I had stopped the bleeding. My left hand was no better off, but some wraps around it had done it’s job there too.  I would live. There would be no Dog Days beach party this year though. But just staying home with some Deimos whisky and no one trying to kill me sounded like the light of my life. In a dog-eat-dog world the one that came out alive was the winner.

Finally, I made my way back to Konzu. He was talking to a bloody Tenno! Though a bounty hunter I was, I had never hunted one of them (and hoped I never would have to) so I should have no trouble with them. I waited in the shadows until the Tenno parted way and walked away towards the entrance to the plains. Then I approached Konzu, still watching the shadows around him.

"I have the statue you were looking for. It had been stolen by some thug to be sold to a Grineer spy.", I said.

"Swazdo-lah! You have delivered again my friend." Konzu replied.

"A friend who still need his payment..." I added.

"Of course, of course." Konzu smiled. "Here. Two thousand credits and a box of finest Deimos whisky. Aged 20 years on blastoma barrels. I too deliver as promised! A small price to pay for this sacred statue. For us Ostron it means hope, and for the Grineer that means danger."

I nodded, holding back the pain since even such a small feat reminded me of the hole in my shoulder and the pain every movement of muscle caused. The credits would get me "home", and the whisky would get me "away."

My shoulder gave me no relief though, and the box of filled bottles looked like a load of pain to carry by myself. Fortunately, Konzu saw the pain on my face, and the bloodied clothes I wore. He was a smart one. After pausing for a second, he turned to a young girl by the near tent. "Oi!" he shouted. "Cada, come help this man carry his luggage to his ship. Be a good girl now!".

The girl hurried over, as if she realized that keeping on Konzus good side also was good for survival in Cetus. Our eyes met and I recognized the pickpocket from earlier in the day. As she came before me she recognized me too,  first looking ashamed but then smiled and replied with "Of course! This a good man. I carry for free."

 "My ship is by the bay area." I said to her before nodding good bye to Konzu.

"I know where that is, mister." the youngling responded.

"Good." I replied. "Then you can take the lead. Let’s go then."

I felt it was better to see her before me, with my stuff on her back, than having her behind me having to decide if my only working arm should be used to guard my pockets or ready my Nukor if the Grineer spy proved to have even more friends in the city.

“Come on then you lazy sod!” she yelled back at me, as she hurried away, trying not to look like the box of bottles was more than she could handle. 
 Today I survive. Tomorrow is tomorrow.

 I am Kuri Analyzatore. Bounty hunter. I will live to see what tomorrow will bring.
 

Edited January 13 by Finkelfantomen