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The Hunt

“...The object spotted in hyperspace almost a month ago has been considered a threat to humanity by officials in Earth Force.”

Flynn walked past the ISN newscast in Downbelow, with PPG raised, on a hunt for Deuce. He had a single-minded determination about him, and probably would’ve walked past a murder as he searched for the gang that was able to smuggle dust into the station for the past six months without being caught. Last time the security team had been ready for the shipment, but Deuce had done something far worse.

“Hey,” someone whispered.

Flynn turned around to see a man standing at a makeshift hut calling Flynn over with his arm.

“What is it?” Flynn asked, annoyed. He didn’t waste even a few seconds as he knew Deuce could be getting further away and deeper into hiding with each passing moment.

“I hear you’re looking for Deuce,” he said. He took a quick glance around the corridor and motioned Flynn to follow him into the rags-for-curtains box.

“What’s it to you?”

“Just so you know, he’s jumped ship.”

“Then where is he?”

“He shoulda arrived on Proxima 3 about an hour and a half ago.”

“How could he have got off the station? We have every exit sealed.”

“Not every. He picked up a map of the station from a guy who owed him a few credits.”

“And how do you know all this?”

“He told me.”

“And why are you telling me?”

“I never really liked him.”

For the first time in a week, a smile broke through Flynn’s concrete face. “Thanks for the help, mate.”

* * *

“Chief--” Flynn stopped as he saw Zack in Garibaldi’s seat instead of the chief himself. “Hey Zack. Where’s the chief?”

“In some meeting with the Captain and Ivanova.”

“D’you know how long he’ll be?”

“Nope. He doesn’t tell me much these days.” Zack started wrestling with the collar on his uniform.

“Jesus, is that still giving you trouble? Have you tried the tailors on the Zocalo yet?”

“Yeah, but no matter how it’s altered, this bloody thing never fits.”

Flynn backed off a bit, “I’ll be back in a little while. See you around.”

“And you.”

Flynn stepped out of Security Central, and bumped into a very anxious looking bald man. “Can I help you?”

The man turned around, “Yes, officer. I was wondering if this station has a commercial telepath, I’m looking to conduct business with some men I don’t particularly trust.”

“I’m sorry, sir, but our last telepath, Talia Winters, left the station--” Flynn felt dizzy, and fell back against the wall.

“Are you fine?”

“I’ll be all right.” Flynn regained his composure, and walked on.

* * *

Flynn walked into MedLab, and walked up to a nurse. “Do you know if Doctor Franklin’s here?”

“Yes, he just got back from a meeting with Captain Sheridan and Commander Ivanova.”

“Thank you.” Flynn walked into Franklin’s office. It wasn’t an office, more of a desk on its own.

Franklin walked over to meet Flynn, “How can I help you, Sergeant?”

“I was just talking to a man about telepaths, and when I mentioned Talia Winters I suddenly got a headache, and a strong emotion.”

“It could be a side effect from you dust experience. I know that Mr. Garibaldi like Talia and that he was distressed about her leaving.”

“Thanks, doc. At least that’s one of about a million things sorted.”

“And what are these other million?”

“Crazy stuff.”

“Give me an example.”

“Wars from thousands of years ago, first ones, a group called the Rangers, President Santiago was assassinated by his own Vice-President. It’s all crazy stuff.”

“It sure sounds like it.”

“So you don’t think there’s anything wrong with me, doc?”

“Your headaches should stop in about two or three days. If they don’t, then come back and see me again.”

“Thanks, doc.”

As Flynn left, Franklin hit his link. “Captain, I think we may have a problem.”