Deathstalker 01 - Deathstalker

Rabid Wolf.
    And long may she stay there, well away from civilized people. It's been ever so peaceful around here since she moved. When you find her, remind her that her license runs out next week. I should do it from a safe distance, mind. Now go away and upset somebody else. I have papers to shuffle and civil insurrection to plan."
    He picked up the nearest piece of paper and stared at it fixedly. Owen and Hazel exchanged a look and then shoved, elbowed and intimidated their way back through the crowd and out into the calm and quiet of the street.
    "Well," said Owen, "that was… different. Are there a lot of people like him in Mistport?"
    "Unfortunately, yes," said Hazel. "A lot of people arrive here fleeing from the tyranny of Empire, expecting to find some kind of free, civilized Utopia. The rather different reality of scraping out a living on an unhospitable rock of ice with a population consisting mainly of outlaws, failures and criminals upsets a lot of new arrivals, and some never really get over it."
    "Don't you find that rather worrying?" said Owen.

    "Not as long as explosives remain really expensive."
    "So, you and this Ruby Journey go back a long way, then?" said Owen as they set off down the street. He couldn't help noticing that they still weren't heading north.
    "I had a try at bounty hunting myself," said Hazel briskly. "I didn't last long.
    I was too soft; kept bringing them in alive, and there's no money in that. Ruby was my sponsor and mentor at the time. A good friend, if a trifle…
    unpredictable. I can't believe things have got so bad for her that she's been forced to work as a bouncer. Mind you, I bet she's a good one. No one would argue with her twice."
    "What sort of place is this Rabid Wolf she's working at?"
    "A dive, the last time I was there. Dope joint, gambling house, a few girls and a bar that never closes. You know the sort of place."
    "Well, actually, no," said Owen. "But it sounds… interesting. Still, I can't help thinking Ruby Journey can wait. Surely we need to find Jack Ransom first, before someone else finds us. He'll be able to protect us from whoever comes after us. Jack Random could stand off a whole army. I mean, the man's a legend."
    "Was a legend," said Hazel, looking carefully straight ahead and not slowing down one bit. "The man is well past his prime. The last I heard of him, he was telling stories of his past exploits in bars in return for free drinks."
    "Are we talking about the same person? Jack Random, the professional rebel?"
    Hazel sighed, but still wouldn't look at him. "Being a rebel and an outlaw is hard work. It wears you down. Jack Random is not the man he used to be. Hasn't led a major uprising since that fiasco on Blue Angel, when he got his ass kicked in no uncertain manner. It was a miracle he got out of there alive and mostly
    intact, and everyone knows it. And that was years ago. Random is… an unknown quantity. I know I can rely on Ruby. She's death on two legs, with an attitude.
    The best in the business."
    "And currently working as a bouncer."
    Hazel glared at him and increased his pace. Owen trudged after her, maintaining a diplomatic silence. He felt as though he should be defending Random more, but the more he thought about it, the less actual evidence he could find to support his argument. All right, the man was a legend. No denying that. He'd led more rebellions against the Empire than any three other outlaws put together, but though he'd fought in some famous campaigns, he'd only ever won fleeting victories. He had the charisma and the rhetoric, but the Empire had the numbers.
    It always had more ships, more guns, more men to call on. And as the years went on, Jack Random lost more campaigns than he won and was hounded from planet to planet and from battle to battle, while the Empire still stood. Owen sighed. If you couldn't trust Jack Random, who could you trust?
    He moved up alongside Hazel and pulled his cloak tightly about him. There was a bitter wind rising, and it seemed to blow right through him. Owen was beginning to find the sudden shifts from icy cold exteriors to piping hot interiors and back again increasingly distressing. Probably end up with a streaming cold on top of everything else, and light years away from civilized medicine.
    He tried hard not to think about leeches.
    Owen and Hazel trudged off down the street, lost in their separate thoughts, and never saw the hooded figure with a crossbow rise up from an overlooking