The alarms rang out like they always did. Annoying the dren out of him. Nothing new he thought. The ship was approaching the Valerra system. “Wonderful,” he muttered to himself. He set the coordinates for the planet Siecom and decided to go into a high orbit so as not to alert the control port and to avoid any recon ships. He wanted to avoid the problem that he had encountered the last time he was here. He made his way back to his quarters.

He laid himself down on his bunk the pain once again reeling from his left hand, it was getting worse. Now it traveled all the way up to his elbow, the numbness and the tingling, a reminder of a battle that just won’t fade away. Its funny he thought, anytime he took a job the pain would quickly follow. He couldn’t worry about his superstitions he had to concentrate, curious about what type of job awaited him and what he needed to do to get it done. He closed his eyes and focused on his breathing. It was the only way he could ease the pain. He lay there perfectly still concentrating. As it began to subside his thoughts raced in his head, a thousand memories began to flood in all at once pieces of his life or lack of it flashing rapidly. “No regrets…no guilt,” he whispered to himself. The battles, the blood spilled all in the name of survival. His. Not for some noble cause, he had already done that and paid the price for it. Now it was about him and what he had to do to get by. Being an outcast was something that he had become accustomed to. Being hunted by peacekeepers was nothing he worried about. He had been one of them…a BLACK GHOST. The elite peacekeepers used in covert operations. Masters in assassinations, torture, misinformation, and arbitrary “cleansing” of species. These special ops troops tended to work outside normal operational procedures more often than not. He bore their black mark on his upper left shoulder. Only a few ever get to this level of service. Recruited from peacekeepers born into service and put thorough a battery of psychological and military training, many die before they reach the cycle of ten. He was one of the unfortunate ones.

Black ghosts are the most feared troops in the peacekeeper core living a solitary life by a strict code never interacting with other troops. They always complete their missions no questions asked even at the expense of their own life, which is expendable for the greater good. Once recruited, the parents of the offspring are “re-assigned” and are never heard from again. Or they are gloriously “killed” in battle. He never knew them and his only memories are fading with time. If he tries hard he can remember the smell of his mother. It does not matter to him now if he ever found them. Like his hand he had become numb. Bored. Wasting his life traveling across the galaxy in a daze. You are in service until you meet your death or when you have reached a cycle when you are “de-ranked” when you are no longer of use. Then you live out the rest of your cycles volunteering for experiments ranging from an enhanced bio military weapons training to advanced breeding where they attempt to breed black ghosts within the ranks. No honors, no recognition. Just a life of brutal service where in the end you are born just to die.

His thoughts lead him back to the day when he betrayed everything that he believed in, the day that led him to use his pulse rifle on his comrades and commanding officers paving the way for his escape to freedom. He grew sick and tired of the carnage, the decisions that high command made, and his willingness to follow their orders. It was slowly killing him. For a brief moment he had a thought, a free one and he acted on it. He had been trained all his life to follow orders never questioning them. He always had thoughts; doubts and he always managed to suppress them, but not this time, not on this mission. It all happened so quickly that he does not remember much except the bodies of his commanding officers that lay dead in front of him. He never tried to feel for his enemies but he could not help but feel for his regiment and how he had to use them to gain his freedom. Better now that they die by his hands than to die for a foolish cause that high command may order them to embark. He thought he was being merciful trying to justify what he had done.

He was the first and only black ghost to ever break ranks to escape into a life that he had never known. Coming after him would be a priority on their list. Frell, it would always be on their list. But he knew their tactics and methods so he would always see them coming. But they did have resources…deep resources, which meant that they could buy all of the scum of the galaxy to hunt him down. That was his only concern. Being sequestered from the population was going to make it difficult to get help when he needed it. And if anyone ever found out what he was, he knew his death would be a long a painful one. No black ghost had ever been captured alive or dead so any number of species would love to be the first to claim this. He knew that the price on his head would be large and he would use this to his advantage, they would have to use other channels being discreet talking only to a few. His only chance would be to play a role in their game, to be a hunter, to build his reputation and make contacts in a filthy world that made living in a stomach of a budong a much more favorable place.

The alarms rang out once again signaling that the planet was approaching. He opened his eyes and looked up at the ceiling of his quarters. He looked at his hand and began to flex it, slowly moving each finger until he began to feel the blood flow through. The pain was gone, but the memories lingered. He sat upward with just a dazed look on his face as if he was just caught in a blast. He touched his shoulder and felt the cold armor that protected him…the armor that covered his mark, he thought about the mark for a microt, about what he was, what he had done, what he is now, and what he wanted. He was confused about everything. He pushed himself to get out of his bunk and made his way to the command deck.

Chapter 2