Freeport 7 was a rough place, Alex McGugan decided, sitting in the bar with his partner, Dia Contez. They had come out to the border worlds to escape from the anger of the Liberty Security Force, and, based on the appearances of those around them, the two Freelancers weren't the only ones. All around them were criminals. They weren't the petty thieves usually seen around Liberty either. OUtcasts walked around wearing their masks in plain sight, not even bothering to disguise themselves, exchanging threatening looks with a large number of Corsairs scattered around the room. Bounty Hunters, looking as dangerous and untrustworthy as those they chased, eyed everyone with suspicion. Alex gulped. Not for the first time today, he was very thankful for the Zoner rules on the station - absolutely no fighting. The station was strategic enough that no one dared break the rules, for fear of reprecussions against their entire faction. Even so, Alex made a point of regularly checking the power level on his pistol.

Dia Contez wasn't as concerned. She had spent a great deal of time in places like this, and had seen how effective the Zoners were in dealing with trouble. Even so, she couldn't help but mentally calculate the credits in bounties that were milling about the bar. She wasn't suprised that the total could probably have bought a used gunboat. Enrico Fernez, Outcast, 150,000... Wade Fitzergald, Molly terrorist, 120,000... another walked in the door. Her eyes glanced immediatly to him. Sam Lonnigan. Never convicted of any crime, but as a well known crooked negotiator for Samura, he was wanted dead by the Golden C... wouldn't exactly be a difficult catch. Guy looked scared out of his wits...

If Sam Lonnigan looked scared, it was because he was. He should have never relied on that idiot to deliver the cardimine. The Freelancer he had hired saw sight of a Hessians patrol, panicked, and sold it all to an idiot Bretonian out for some quick cash. Now he actually had to buy back his own cardimine, just to deliver it to the GC. He was getting ripped off. He sighed nervously, glancing about for the contact. At least he would get this deathmark off his head. Where was that confunded freelancer? There. This should be an easy deal. Just buy back the cardimine, grab it, get out of there. The freelancer was convinced he had a hold full of Boron, and Lonnigan would give him whatever the man wanted. Lonnigan suppressed a chuckle. It wasn't like he was going to pay him anyway.

Dia sipped her drink quietly. Where was he?! She had arranged to meet one of her old friends here, to get a couple of false id's made up, but so far, he hadn't shown. She was getting nervous. Possibly caught by the Bounty Hunters? There weren't any authorities around here to turn criminals into, but Pittsburgh will pay good money for criminals no matter where they're from. Dia was about to suggest to Alex that they move on, when a voice behind her spoke up, chilling her to the bone.

"Well well. Dia Rideout. Haven't seen you in a long time." The voice was accompanied by a host of clicks as 6 pistols had their safety's pulled off. The speaker, a Bounty Hunter with a scars decorating every visible piece of flesh, leaned forward to speak directly in Dia's ear. "You're mine Hessian." He leaned back, and spoke up so all of his men could hear. "Dia Rideout, you are wanted for piracy, theft, murder and treason." His smile mad Alex sick. "And the bounty is just as high if you're dead." His finger tightened on the trigger, when the entire station shook, throwing the bounty hunters to the floor. Lights flickered, then went out completely. Alex could feel a hand on his shoulder throw him out of his seat, then pull him through the door. Light from a nearby fire flickered out into the hall.

"What the hell is going on!" His own voice sounded hollow in his ears, ringing painfully. Dia seemed to mouth.

"Not a clue. Get to the ships!" They ran. Another blast shook the station, throwing them against a wall. Through a nearby window, a strange purple glow was emenating from several... what were those? Alex was about to point it out to Dia, when another blast shook Freeport 7, worse than the others preceding it. He pulled himself up, Dia right behind him. They ran down the hall towards the hangar, when Alex noticed one of the purple glowing things streaking towards the window next to him. There was an instant of intense pain, then everything went black.


**********************************************

"Alex. You awake in there? Alex?" His vision fuzzed, then focused. Ahead of him, he saw Julie's smiling face. "You ok?"

"Where am I? I'm not dead, am I?" Julie laughed.

"I don't know. You tell me." He glanced around. He was on a space station. He knew this place. A window was in front of him. The Liberty Badlands. What was going on? Julie chuckled.

"You took a nasty fall. Sure you're ok?" Something wasn't right. She wasn't acting like herself. Julie was a tough - Julie was dead. The realization hit him like a missle. Julie was dead, he was on Freeport 7. This wasn't real. And yet it was so nice... No. What was happening.

"You - you're not Julie. What is this!?" Julie's smiling face suddenly melted into that of a strange creature, multicoloured with strange tentacles sprouting out randomly. The station melted away, became a pink star system, purple glowing ships flying past. The creature screeched, a high noise than chilled Alex's blood. He felt himself sinking down, swirling, fading to black.


**********************************************

"Alex? Seriously kid, you're freaking me out." Things cleared up. He was on a medical stretcher, in the middle of a crowded spaceport. This place... Manhattan. "Alex? Honestly, what the hell? How hard did you did your head anyway?" Dia was here. Real Dia. Really her? Not a strange alien? Dia slapped the side of Alex's head. "Hey! Wake up!" Yeah, that was Dia. Alex focused on her.

"What happened? What hit the station?"

"No one knows. Some sort of attack I guess, but I've never seen a weapon that could take out a station that quick." Alex struggled to his feet. Dia pushed him down.

"Where do you think you're going? You're injured, theres a doc coming." Alex shook his head.

"No. Dia, we're wanted. The last thing we need is to gather more attention than nessecary. We have to get out." Dia quickly thought over the options. Alex was right, but he also wasn't feeling right either. The way he had been screaming in his sleep... But they had to go. She knew someone that could help.

"Fine. Quick, before the Doc makes it over." Alex got up, and the pair speedwalked into a nearby alley, Alex a little unsteady, pain radiating from his head. They needed to disappear...



Three hours later, Alex was in a CSV, an ugly little cargo hauler, on its way to Colorado. They had caught a ride from an "independant cargo hauler" - a smuggler - to the nearby Rochester station, then caught their current ride from a Junker. Alex didn't trust them. Like many, he considered the Junkers to be criminals, thieves who would sell their own mother for a few credits, barely avoiding being jailed through legal loopholes - and generous bribes. But then, Alex had to keep in a chuckle. Guess their better than me. I got caught the first time I did something illegal. But did I? The fight in Zone 21 still baffled him. Why had the LSF decided to attack them? Who were the people who came to their rescue? None of it made sense, and the longer that Alex thought about it, we was only more confused. He shoved it out of his mind. They were going to someone who owed Dia a favour - one Sean Ashcroft. Apperently he'd also had some problems with the law, smuggling alien artifacts. He sounded like the kind of guy that Alex would normally hunt down. Unfortunatly, desperate time called for desperate measures. Even so, Dia did seem to have an unusual number of criminal friends... What the bounty hunter had said on Freeport 7 stuck with him. He had called her Dia "Rideout". Even more so, he had called her a Hessian. Alex had only heard the name in rumors, but what he had heard hinted at vicious pirates, funded by the notorious Outcasts... that was something he had to talk to her about the second they were alone...


They docked at Ashcroft's base, a hollowed out rock buried deep within an asteroid field. Alex glanced uneasily at the men milling about, all heavily armed, dirty and desperate looking. Pirates. This was a Rogue base, wasn't it? Thoughts tumbled through Alex's mind faster than he could proccess them. How stupid were they, coming here? Alex and his partner had never been the most notorious of pilots, but guaranteed they'd been responsible for some people from here being locked away. Don't look nervous. Let Dia do the talking. It took a fair bit of restraint to not go for his gun, but he still took a glance. Full charge. Suddenly, his thoughts were interupted by a shout.

"Dia! Never thought I'd see you around here, c'mere!" The man shouting ran forwards, embracing a grinning Dia. Alex quickly looked him over - brown hair, medium height, not the type that would stand out in a crowd. Probably would be beneficial, Alex mused. This guy could blend into any crowd in Liberty, perfect for smuggling.

"Hey kid, this is my old pal, Sean Ashcroft. Sean, my partner, Alex McGugan." They shook, and Alex was suprised to notice that Ashcroft appeared to show no signs of wanting to shoot them both dead. Must be that we're all in the same boat now... an unpleasant thought.

"Alex, wait here. I'm gonna go back to Manhattan, check some stuff out. I'll talk to you in a bit."

"Wait a minute, what am I --" Dia cut him off.

"Look, I have to check some stuff out, I'll be back soon enough. Till then, I'm sure Sean could use your help." She turned to Ashcroft. "You said that you had a ship for me?"

"Yep, right over here. Freshly liberated from Samura's docking bays, new ids and everything." Ashcroft took on an evil grin when pointing at the gleaming Starflier. It was a newer model, and as much as it couldn't take the beating of a patriot or other military craft, it was a common vehicle. No one would look twice at it, and the last thing Dia wanted on Manhattan was excess attention. Grudglingly, Alex had to admit that it was probably the best ship in the hangar to take. Dia climbed into the cockpit, and took off without a backwards glance. As the craft glided into the airlock, Alex couldn't help but wonder if he would ever see his partner again...

**************************************************

The next two weeks were an insane frenzy of work. Ashcroft turned out to have an impressive array of ships at his disposal, and generously gave one of the newer Wolfhounds to Alex, a factory new Mark 8. In return, Alex spent most of his free time tuning the small fleet, vastly increasing it's combat capabilities. More than once, Alex had to question himself over what he was doing. He was aiding a pirate group... no, smugglers. Important difference, he decided. The only reason these people were labelled as criminals was because the LSF decided to control the lucrative artifact trade for itself. Besides, it wasn't like they were following the law themselves...

**************************************************

Finally, back in space. Alex sat in the control chair of his customized Wolfhound, waiting. Most people would have been bored being on guard duty, but Alex was overjoyed simply by the experience of being able to fly again. Alex had escorted a flight of cargo trains into the asteroid field, waiting for Ashcroft and his men. From there, they would fly through a hidden jumphole, back to the New York system, to sell of the massive cargos of Alien Artifacts. But Ashcroft was late. Alex tried to scan the area, but all of the wreckage in the field blocked him from getting any decent signals. Wait - there. Radiation. Whats giving that off? A working cruise engine should give off neglible amounts, but this source was powerful...

"Transport Grant 6, this is Edge Flight 4. I'm picking up a strange radiation signal. I'm gonna go check it out."

"Roger Edge 4. Hurry back." Alex frowned. Grant 6 sounded nervous. It appeared everyone sensed something wasn't right. Alex smoothly brought up his throttle, weaving carefully between all of the wreckage. Checking his scopes, he saw the radiation source had moved. Or it might not have. It was impossible to tell, all the scrap was playing havoc with his sensors. Alex adjusted his course, but throttled down, killing his exterior lights. Something told him that it might be a better idea to go in quietly.

With a burst of manuevering thrusters, Alex came around a particularly large asteroid, squinting to see off in the distance. There, resting in the asteroid field, surrounded by junk, was the radiation source. It was impossible to describe, some sort of ship he thought - or a creature? The glowing pink object had the flowing smooth lines of a sea creature, but no such thing could survive in space, could it? But he knew what this looked like... images flashed through his mind... the attack on Freeport 7... this thing is - His comm crackled, making Alex jump.

"Edge 4! We are under attack! We need your help now! Repeat, return the the transports NOW!" Alex swore, slammed the cruise engines on, and nailed his thrusters to spin him around. The cruise engines caught, lurching the fighter forward. Alex screamed through the rocks, cursing anyone he could think of at the moment. At his speed, the transports came into view within seconds, and the dogfight around them. Patriots, brand new military models, were swarming amongst the smuggler's bloodhounds, cutting them to shreds. Alex maintained cruise, targeting an LSF Patriot with a missle, then cut cruise engines and fired at less than 100 metres. The military ship ripped apart in a fireball, which Alex screamed through. He muscled the ship through the explosion, bits of ship pinging off his shields, and came out right behind another Patriot. He fired off a snap shot, straight into the ships engines, burning them through to the powercore. The second ship burst apart just as spectacularly as the first. Alex killed his engines, yanked his control stick up, then slammed the thrusters, instantly launching himself ninety degrees from his previous flight path. His manuever was just in time, as angry red lasers burned through the spot he had just occupied. Alex threw the ship into a roll, pulling back to come right behind the ship firing at him... but it wasn't where he thought it was. His Wolfhound rocked from several close range hits, red lights flickering on the warning panel. He swore, and punched the throttle. Alex streaked forward, manuevering like a madman, diving, rolling, spinning, doing everything possible to shake the StarTracker on his tail. Damn, this guy is good. Alex tried a desperation mover, flying as fast as possible through a maze of wreckage. The pilot on his tail followed perfectly, with time to hammer at Alex's shields with high power lasers. The shields finally gave way,letting lasers burn into the overpowered engines. They died, leaving Alex floating dead in space. Outside the viewport, the StarTracker came around for a second pass... the comm, set to monitor all channels, flickered to life.

"Trent! Grab Ashcroft! Don't worry about him!" Alex breathed a sigh of relief as the "Trent" looped back, ignoring Alex to return to the dogfight. He stored away that piece of information for later - the man "Trent" was not to be messed with. Might be useful information, if he ever got out alive... Alex checked the oxygen. Enough for a couple of days, but with non-operational engines, that wouldn't exactly do alot of good....

***********************************************

Alex was awakened to a splitting headache. He groaned, and went to sit up, but was held back by the cuffs on his hands. What the...

"Ahh. The prisoners awake! Welcome to your new home kid. Sugarland station." Alex blinked the sleep out of his eyes. Above him was a man in a filthy guard uniform, grinning crookedly at his new prisoner. "This heres gonna be the last place you'll ever see kid. Enjoy yerself." Laughing crazily, the man snapped off the cuffs on Alex's wrists, turned, and walked out of the cell. Alex stood painfully to see around. He was in a narrow room, about 2 metres by 2 metres, with a cot on one side and a small toilet on the other. He rubbed his chaffed wrists. Sugarland. A prison of sorts, one where you had to work for your food. Alex shook his head, and immediatly regretted it. How had this happened?

"I must have fallen asleep, and bounty hunters probably found me there", he mused to himself. One thing was clear though, he had to get out of here.

***********************************************

This was his best chance. Alex was moving a cargo lifter full of broken up ore to the dock, to load it up in one of the old freighters. Beside him, two guards chatted, obviously not worried about their single prisoner. Stupid move. In a flash, Alex had one of the rocks in his hand, smashing it into the nearest guards face. One down. As the guard fell, Alex pulled the man's pistol out of its holster, drawing up and shooting the second guard in the chest. He went down, and didn't get up. Alarms blared, and flashing red strobe lights came to life. Alex had to move, fast. He ran the rest of the way to the dock, leaping through the closing isolation door. He made a quick decision of the ships parked in the hanger. There, perfect. A Liberty Defender. Alex knew the heavy fighter to be the personal ship of the Prison Warden, which made it all the sweeter. He leaped in, snapped the hatch shut, and ripped off the panel beneath the controls. He began to hotwire it, seeing out the port, dozens of guards streaming into the hangar. The Defender roared to life. Alex grinned. Never lost the touch.

Small arms fire began to ping off of the stolen ship. No way any of it would get through the armour, but its still time for a little payback... Alex fired up the hover coils, then flicked on the weapons, setting them for high speed bursts. He'd have less power, but fire far quicker. Burning light lanced out from the Defender, carving chunks out of everything in its path. Guards scattered, forgetting orders simply to save their own lives. Alex turned the ship, and fired a sustained burst into the airlock. It blew out, sucking everything not tied down into the vacum of space. Guards, tools, replacement parts all bounced off the Heavy fighter's armour as they were thrown into infinity. As an after thought, Alex turned the ship, and destroyed all the other ships on the hangar deck. He punched the throttle, screamed out of the station, and flew off towards the nearby Rogue base. Alex grinned happily. Few had managed to escape a Libery prison, but he had. And he was never going back. A quick change of ids on the ship at the Rogue base, and it was off to Manhattan. Alex hadn't heard from Dia for a while, and with how things were going, he was starting to get worried...


**********************************************

Alex stepped into the information office slowly. A quick glance showed no military around, and he hadn't been able to tell if he'd been followed. Going into a government agency wasn't high on the list of things he wanted to do right now, but he needed to find Dia. No one anywhere knew where she had gone to. Alex shaked the worries out of his mind and walked to the attendant.

"'Scuse me, but could you do a check for me on someone?" The attendant, a middle aged brunnette, smiled an annoying, superior smile.

"I'm sorry, but we can't do that. Civilians are not allowed to access that kind of data." Alex smiled right back.

"I'm sure that we can stop worrying about that, hmm?" As he spoke, the pilot slid a few credits across the polished desk. The attendant slid them into her pocket.

"Ahh yes. Who was it now that you wanted looked up?"

"Someone named Dia Contez, a freelancer." The attendant started typing, and came up with a screen that she swiveled so Alex could see. There was practically nothing there. No mention of any recent jobs, nor any ship data, or any type of information on recent activities. Alex frowned, and scrolled down. His heart caught up in his throat. What?! Something was seriously wrong. Clearly written at the bottom of the record, was a note. Deceased. The date was two years ago, at the battle where Alex and Dia had first met. But shes been alive since then... what was going on!? Alex played a hunch. "Can you look up another, Alex McGugan?" The attendant pressed a few more keys, bringing up Alex's own record.

Alex felt sick. There, beside a picture of his own face, was the notice. Deceased. It recorded him as being killed at that same battle. He was going to be sick. He had to get out, he had to leave. Now. He spun around, and ran for the door. Alex had barely gone two steps when he felt a gun against the back of his head.

"Freeze. One move, and you're dead."


To be continued....

this is great!!!

keep it coming

007

very good. you're a talented writer

Play CYOF!