Hard Luck Hermit

As the captain of the crew (and since he had already seen Quid in person) Kamak was the one to watch the video the killer had made. He bit his tongue and managed to make it almost five minutes into the video before stopping to gag. As he stood over a sink with hands shaking and his gut churning, Kamak praised himself for having the forethought to not eat anything for a couple swaps before watching the video. Even on an empty stomach the video was hard to tolerate. Watching Quid get skinned and deveined like a piece of meat headed for the butcher shook him on a level even Kamak did not anticipate.

He powered through his disgust regardless, hoping there might be some worthwhile information to be found. By the time the video had ended, Kamak was both disgusted and disappointed. He took time to steady his shaking hands before exiting his room.

“How was it?”

“Gruesome,” Kamak said. He’d seen enough of that particular murder for a thousand lifetimes. “But not informative. Garden variety murderous taunts. Only one thing really stood out.”

Kamak had actually written down a note, to make sure he got the exact wording right.

“They said ‘You will be forgotten. I will erase you and your legacy’,” Kamak said. “A little out of the wheelhouse for the usual psychopath.”

“Not by much,” Farsus said. “Some serial killers are motivated by a desire for recognition, in a twisted way.”

Corey bit his tongue. He’d been through a lot the past few years, but something about a genuine serial killer still put him on edge. Especially one targeting him and his friends.

“This isn’t exactly my specialty,” Kamak said. “I always tended to hunt more mundane murderers. Psychos are bad business.”

“We’ve done plenty of crazies,” Doprel said.

“General crazies,” Kamak said. “A guy who wants to eat everybody is a very different beast than a guy who wants to eat a specific group of people, psychologically speaking.”

Kamak had hunted plenty of mass murderers, but he saw a stark divide between someone who just killed a lot of people and a serial killer. Those who killed out of rage or a desire for money were very different from those who developed psychotic obsessions, and one had to be aware of that divide to analyze them properly. Kamak didn’t have the knowledge necessary, but he did know a guy.

“We need an expert,” Kamak said. He tapped his datapad again, dismissing the grim note he’d taken, “Tooley, I sent you coordinates. Let’s go.”

“Yeah, yeah, I’m going,” Tooley said. She reviewed their coordinates and was pleasantly surprised to find they were close by. “Jukat. Why are we going back to Jukat?”

“I know an expert on serial killers who lives there,” Kamak said. “He can analyze this brutal shit better than we can, give us some insights.”

“Sounds like a good place to start,” Corey said. “Anything I should know about Jukat?”

Though he had occasionally seen references to Jukat while reading or watching shows, and they had even passed through that galaxy more than once, the crew had never stopped anywhere near the planet itself. Whenever he went to a new place there were usually some cultural differences Corey wanted to be aware of. He’d offended enough people that he knew it paid to be cautious.

“Almost nothing, in fact,” Farsus said. “The Jukati are a rational people, not quick to offense, and their proximity to Centerpoint has given them a great deal of crossover with many races.”

“Oh, that’s nice,” Corey said. He always like it when people were less likely to hate him. “What’s their deal, though? Like, just information wise?”

“Legally they are an associate of the Galactic Council, but not a member,” Farsus said. “They tend to be more isolationist.”

“Like, in a chill way, or how the Sturit are isolationist?”

The mere mention of her people made Tooley bristle with anger. Farsus shook his head.

“They are reclusive, not xenophobic,” Farsus said. “While they keep to themselves, they are ultimately a peaceful people.”

Corey stared at an orbital weapons platform bristling with guns in every direction. If that station wasn’t enough to obliterate anything that moved, there were twenty more just like it orbiting the planet. Fleets of patrol ships traveled between each in roving swarms.

“I thought you said these were peaceful people.”

“They are peaceful,” Kamak said. “But peaceful people without big guns don’t last long.”

“The Jukati are firm believers in the philosophy of the walled garden,” Farsus elaborated. “They build a place of strength so that their people can lead a peaceful life. Strong orbital defenses are one manifestation of that ideal.”

The orbital authority sent clearance to land, and Tooley started carefully flying on a predetermined route they sent her. Even if Farsus said this was a garden, she didn’t want to risk becoming a pest to get exterminated. She knew very well she was the best pilot in the universe, but the size and number of guns were too much even for her. She’d be space dust in an instant if she tried anything clever.

“To be fair to the locals, this wasn’t nearly so bad a couple years ago,” Kamak said. “The Horuk invasion did wonders for the ‘wall’ part of the walled garden.”

“Well, I’m glad they’re on our side,” Corey said.

“The Jukati are on their own side,” Doprel said. “Council has been trying to get them to formally join for a long time now. They keep refusing.”

“We can still put them between us and the bad guys when the time comes,” Kamak said.

Corey really didn’t like the way Kamak said “when” and not “if”.