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***

The first step in a great journey had been taken. Vigo flew away, giving me the coordinates of his organisation. Though I already knew them. He was a hunter from a guild of hunters. Bounty hunters. A very... serious paramilitary organisation in the galaxy. Although they often employed people who were in trouble with the law, they brought their heads in and the guild turned a blind eye to their transgressions. The Nova Corps, the galactic police, weren't too keen on arresting members of the organisation. Vigo left and I stayed in the ship I'd assembled on my own.

The Hunter's Guild was just what I needed, and being asked to work there, even as a simple technician, was quite unexpected. But it was the best option for me, for now. The Hunters had their own headquarters and their own technical base, their own spaceport where the guild's ships were serviced and simply parked. Given that hunting was a field work, the ships were very important to the hunters... They were cherished, bragged about and sold to each other. Much less modernised. A ship "off the assembly line" was quoted like clothes from "Ashan" at the fashion week in Paris - that is, nothing. Still, the comparison with the Wild West was quite accurate. Although I knew nothing about the Wild West, I had seen a couple of westerns. At first, of course, in the era of space exploration, guilds didn't exist. You could hire someone to do some work. Later on, there were tens of thousands of hunters. Considering the population of the galaxy, it's not that many, but still, there were enough of them everywhere. Organisations, firms, and exchanges began to appear, making it easier for hunters to find work. A hunter could be ordered to do anything - to bring a case of rare alcohol from a distant planet, to find a child who had run away from home in space, to kill someone, or to steal something. Finding criminals was quite valuable - after all, with each system having its own rules and laws, it was easier to put a bounty on a criminal's head. The Nova Corps only had authority on Xandar and its satellite planets; outside of them, the Corps had no authority, resources, or desire to deal with criminals.

The reality, however, was that if the police followed the principle of minimum duties, crime would multiply like crazy. Gangs could fly from one system to another with impunity, rob, kill, and in the end no one would be able to stop them - simply because they would be able to get out of the system in time. No attempts to negotiate between systems had succeeded - some were even happy to see their neighbours get some pirates... And in such conditions, the most important force against the pirates was the Headhunters. Legally, they were mercenaries, just like criminals under the laws of other systems, but that's why they were effective in solving the crime problem. And they didn't care who was against it, who was for it, there was a goal, there was a reward.

Pretty soon, the hunters formed a guild to distinguish the real hunters from the imposters. That was about five thousand years ago - over time the hunters' guild was recognised by almost every political force in the galaxy, the hunters became the balancer that prevented galactic chaos by stopping criminals, often by their own methods. No attempt to replace the Hunters had been successful - any official operating under rules, regulations and laws had failed immediately. The Hunters were a diverse organisation - they accepted anyone capable enough to join - you had to have your own ship, know how to use a weapon and survive a few test missions.

The ship came out of hyperjump in orbit of the planet where the LC was parked. I should give it a name. I was getting tired of calling the giant Linear Cruiser "LC". I had to fly halfway around the planet before I could start the descent in the right place. The LC was under invisibility systems, on the surface of the planet. Electronically invisible - it wasn't hard to see it, it stood out enough from above.

The corvette flew into the LC hangar, landing exactly in the centre. The huge room could hold a dozen corvettes, but there were only two, and a mountain of scrap metal I'd built the ship from. There was also a holocron cube, with the captain. I jumped out of the docking airlock in the bow of the ship - three metres was no height for me now. As soon as I got close to the cube, it activated:

- You're in a hurry! Any luck? - A hologram of the captain appeared.

- Yes, Master. Vigo has agreed to buy the corvette. And he's also invited me to be a technician!

The teacher's thinking:

- Are you sure? Could this offer be a trick? How do you feel about it?

- It's nothing special," I shrugged, "an offer is an offer. But getting a job with the hunters, even if it's in a hangar... It's... That's...

- Quiet, quiet," the teacher waved his hand, "calm down. The hunters' guild is not a very prestigious place to work, especially for low-ranked hunters. But they have some freedom. But a technician? Are you sure you want to do this?

I hesitated. The teacher continued to intimidate:

- Right now you can make ships and sell them for good money. But a permanent job means you'll get a salary. And you shouldn't shine your Force abilities then. The risk of unintended consequences is too great.

- I understand, Master.

- Exactly. But it's up to you, maybe selling ships for nothing is more difficult than you think, and a permanent job is a good way of authenticating yourself.

I nodded:

- Master, I'll go to Xandar. And accept a job as a technician. I think that's the best way. And I can still make money if I'm in a pinch. Two hundred grand for this ship is already a lot of money...

The teacher just sighed:

- "Get your act together. And be prepared for all sorts of surprises.

* * * *

From above, the planet looked pretty nice. Four continents in one hemisphere. There were a lot of cities, but I needed the capital, and that's where I pointed the corvette.

I had to switch on the invisibility systems - I had no desire to stand at customs, and I had already checked the local air defences. The Imperial corvette had an invisibility system that I had copied. I thought that, theoretically, it could be genetically engineered and registered to myself and paid off, but... that's too risky. There's no guarantee that I wouldn't be removed as a secret carrier, no guarantee that I wouldn't be locked up in some clandestine design bureau dealing with the security of a galactic planet, no guarantee that I'd get paid at all. The technology was too revolutionary - it could completely change the balance of power in the galaxy and allow even a small army to crush ten times superior enemy forces due to the factor of surprise and invisibility.

So I got my hands on the technology, as well as the technology of the super-powered reactor, as well as many other technologies. Now on my agenda was the creation of armour. I wanted to live, and I wanted to live happily ever after. The Force could not be a universal defence, so I needed my own armour. But in the meantime, I studied the advances in Imperial science, trying to realise them. In the Empire, most of the super high-tech equipment, like hyperdrives or microreactors, was made by forsusers. This allowed them to create things beyond their current technological capabilities. The invisibility system was also one of those technologies.

The ship was descending to Xandar. I relaxed in the pilot's seat and glanced at the instruments while thinking, why did I agree to this? What's in store for me? Waiting for me to mess around with iron. I could probably get the Hunters hooked on my alien technology, but it's too dangerous. It's a lot easier to copy local ones, for that matter. Easier and safer.

The ship was landing at the guild's private spaceport, in the guest sector. No one saw it, even landed barely audible. So far, I hadn't been detected. From above, the guild spaceport looks like a large concrete square, with a typical office building next to it and about a hundred large hangars for technical work. I landed the ship on the very edge of the guest area - carefully, the struts clanking on the concrete and the shutdown repulsors transferring all the weight of the machine to the four little durasteel legs.

* * *

- I swear to you, Vigo, he wasn't here! - the spaceport commander waved his arms so hard he almost hit the old mercenary in the face.

- Are you malfunctioning again? What if someone damages my ship?

- There were no malfunctions! - I was just at the spaceport, I was looking, and he appeared as if out of thin air!

Their argument was interrupted by a young boy, carrying a large rucksack behind his back:

- Good afternoon, Vigo. The ship is in place, are you going to test it?

The men arguing near the entrance to the office fell silent. Vigo smirked - it wasn't often that technicians could be so annoyed. He nodded:

- 'Tōlan, check the ship. This kid wants to sell it to me.

- This ghost ship? - The technician almost gasped in surprise, "Vigo, are you sure?

- More than sure," the mercenary turned his gaze to the boy, "so he's here, I see. Tölan, put the boy in your room.

- I have no room! And what the hell do I want with uneducated and inexperienced workers?

Vigo looked at the boy.

- I've heard. No education.

The teenager only smirked:

- 'If this is the first time you've seen an adaptive invisibility system, the question of who has more experience remains open. However," the kid turned to Vigo, "I don't need to explain how much noise this system can make? So I'll ask you to keep it a secret.

- How can you do that? - Tolain's eyes widened, "It's... it's... it's... it's... it's...

- It's technology hunting, murder, war, sabotage and a lot of security problems, Mr Tolain," the teenager sighed, "so I don't intend to put it on every ship I see. Mr Vigo, does your offer still stand?

- Of course. Tōlan, you'd better keep quiet.

However, Tölan did not want to be silent. He began to resent it:

- Vigo, are you out of your mind? What if the boy's family comes for him?

- They won't," the kid replied.

- Parents?

- I don't have any parents. And no relatives, and not even friends.

The technician shook his head and walked towards the ship, leaving Roma and Vigo alone. Vigo smirked:

- I haven't seen that face on him in a while. Thanks, that was fun. Now tell me, what's the system and why did the ship suddenly appear here?

Roma sighed heavily again, looking at the back of the fleeing Tólan:

- Just an invisibility system. Believe me, it's the kind of technology that would cause more problems than it would do if it were widely known. But I put one on your ship. Consider it a bonus.

Vigo smiled - after all, Roma had a lot of secrets behind him. Together with Roma they went into the office and the old hunter briefly outlined Roman's prospects for his future life. There was no housing in the headquarters, but you can bring your own ship and live on board, work from morning till night, one day off, but the pay is not bad. If he doesn't screw up. Roma tried his best to memorise all the details.

Roma had no documents. None at all, absolutely none. Vigo promised to think of something and, clapping him on the shoulder, advised him to go to Tolan for an appointment.

* * *

Roman.

* * *

Yeah, I didn't get the best chief. He's going to get back at me for my sudden appearance and my reluctance to share my technology. However, in order to interest him I had to demonstrate something special, otherwise he would have dismissed me and would not even listen to me. So at least, intrigued, he took me on board. From LC310 came an Imperial corvette, a ship about forty-two metres long, four metres wide, with a blunt bow and no sign of aerodynamics. Corvettes were not designed for fast flight in the atmosphere, so there was no need for aerodynamics. In fact, despite its excellent armament and equipment, the ship was a military ship - that is, it was not comfortable. The crew of six people was accommodated in rather cramped cabins, but I didn't care at all - the main thing was that there was a place to sleep.

I started the morning with some exercise - as usual, I ran around a bit, worked with the Force, and went out to the cargo hold of the corvette. I had brought enough tools with me, and even a dozen small repair drones. They did some routine chores, allowing me to work more efficiently. The drones were about the size of a dog, angular, looking like flying boxes. Hidden inside were energy cells, controlled by an AI. And the obvious advantage was that I, as a forsuser, could talk to the AI through a thought channel, and the AI was not a robot, it had abstract thinking and, in this configuration, was my best friend, understanding me without words and doing everything I needed. And now, as soon as I wanted to take my tools and a couple of drones with me, two drones were hovering at the entrance to the cargo bay, one of them grabbed the technician's harness with a manipulator - a big belt with many pockets and rigid boxes hiding carefully selected tools.

- Is there nothing extra in here? - I asked in thought speech.

- Everything is adapted to local technology. You'll probably have to run errands for a while, but I'll help you as much as I can. I should have taken more drones.

- No, you can't have too many. How many drones can you control?

Artificial intelligence, or rather a computer, it's a big box, like a system box. It slides into a special slot on the corvette's engineering deck and the seeker uses the ship's capabilities - its transmitters, receivers, locators and visors.

- One hundred and twenty-two thousand six hundred and seventy units, assuming simultaneous execution of complex work requiring the participation of my computational core. However, it's more than that.

- Still, for now, a dozen drones will do the job. And where they can't, don't overdo it. Or they'll be harnessed like a horse and their legs will hang down...

- I don't quite understand your comparisons, but I've got the gist of it, - said the ISKIN.

I walked along the spaceport, looking at the situation. It's like a big car park, only instead of cars there are spaceships. Predominantly of small class, looking more like medium-sized aeroplanes - almost all with wings, some even with tail fins. The day was sunny - the morning had just begun, and work was boiling over. Drones flew behind me, carrying tools - I didn't put on my tool belt just yet. I could see a city in the distance - that was where the Nova Corps and the capital of the planet was located. I never learnt the name of the city, but it was huge and gorgeous. The guild office was on the outskirts of the city. Aerospiders were soaring through the sky, a ship of the "677" series from the Legrand Industries Corporation was coming in for a landing. Or simply "Legrand 677." The ship is quite common in the galaxy, it's a very successful model - it looks like an aeroplane, has split wings that save fuel when flying in the atmosphere, and can be easily modified. The stock version costs about ten thousand local tugriks - a large sum, but not fantastic. At the spaceport, the Six Hundred and Seventy-sevens were often seen, more often than other ships.

I looked round the row of ships and headed for the hangar. Without stopping, I took the tools from the flying drone and put on the belt, that's it, now I'm ready for labour and defence! No sooner had I reached the hangar, someone was approaching quickly from behind. Some man was walking at a wide stride. I stopped and looked at him. He saw me.

- Hey, kid, where are the technicians?

- In front of you. You got to speak the same language as the polite ones.

- I mean the real ones, not the suckers!

Well, do I have to show the man it's not nice to be rude? I used my strength and sped up - he didn't even realise I was in front of him and kicked him under the breath. The man folded in half, coughing.

- Don't be rude. This is a guild, not a sharashkan office, and if you get rough, you might get punched in the face. I'm a technician, what do you want?

The man coughed:

- How did you...

- Don't mind me. Problems?

- Yeah. I had my stabiliser blown off by a gunshot. The guild is supposed to fix ships for free, right?

- We'll give you a stabiliser from a decommissioned ship for free. You want a new one, you pay for it.

- We can use the old one. He took a breath. You're a good kid. I didn't even notice you. How long you been working here?

- First day. Come on, let's go see your wounded," I smirked and mentally turned to the seeker, "let Tolan know I've got a lot of work to do.

The 677th ship, a skiff by Imperial classification. It wasn't far away, about a hundred metres from us. The stabiliser is one of the ship's rich plumage. It was torn clean off, roughly. Not by gunfire, by the looks of it. With the Force, I could fix it in five minutes, but you don't want to shoot the cannon at sparrows.

- A gunshot, you say? Well, well, well..." I jumped up, which made the man's jaw drop. All he said was, "Erm...".

The seeker immediately intervened in my thoughts:

- "The part you need is in the warehouse.

- Should I go there myself, or can the drones pick it up?

- I'd rather go myself.

I jumped down, clapped the man on the shoulder:

- Come by Tolan's place tonight. We'll make it happen.

* * *

The first day was the excursion, which was cancelled because of work. I insisted that the boozer's ship be repaired, though he'd be billed for trying to cheat us out of free repairs. Tolan sat in his office, which was more of a back room. There was a lot of junk in there. It was located in one of the hangars.

- May I?

- Yes," he said, "Ah, there you are at last. What's your name?

- Roman. Just Roma. What do you want me to do, Chief?

- Go to hangar six. There's a 900 there, half dismantled. We need to help the guys. Don't go too far yet," he looked at the drones behind me, "see how my guys work. And then we'll see. I see you're well prepared. What's your status on that what's-his-name?

- The one you met on the way here? - I raised an eyebrow," he called me out, called me petty, got kicked in the head, and tried to tell me that his stabiliser was blown off by a gunshot. Probably drunk and crashed into something, so he's trying to get out of it....

The chief only laughed and waved his hand, go to work.