Hard Luck Hermit

Their flight over the mountains was high and slow. Tooley was a good pilot, but even the best pilot could only do so much in a blizzard. Even as she adjusted for the varying winds, the gale still buffeted the Wild Card Wanderer from side to side.

“I can’t believe I ever made this flight in the Hermit,” Tooley grumbled. “Wild Card’s got top of the line atmospheric stabilizers and we’re still twitching like a dying quwik.”

“Hermit had more weight to her,” Kamak said. “She was a hauler, not a cruiser. More atmospheric work in mind.”

Tooley grunted in acknowledgment and ended that nostalgic line of thought. While her flight was slow by the usual standards, she was still technically going several hundred miles per hour, and they broke out of the blizzard in a few moments. The mountains stretched on for miles in every direction, but in the midst of some of the most towering peaks was a small, flat valley, inside of which was nestled a walled facility of gray stone. Tooley pulled in and brought her ship down in a snow-covered landing field beside it.

Corey actually had to go looking to find a jacket, and once he stepped off the ship, he took a moment to appreciate the crunch of the snow beneath his feet. It only now occurred to him that it had been many years since he’d seen snow at all, much less walked through it. He resisted the urge to make a snowball -for now. He might chuck one at Tooley on their way out.

There were armed guards in winter gear waiting outside the facility, and as he got his first look at the Jukati, Corey started to understand why they were so intent on maintaining their orbital defenses. They were small, frail looking creatures. Even the armed guards outside, presumably the tougher representatives of their kind, could’ve been confused for human children if not for the fact that some of them had full beards.

Once they were through the main door, Kamak took the lead and talked their way through security. He had advised them all to leave their weapons aboard the ship earlier, so they passed the security check without issue, and were soon on their way inside, though an armed escort remained with them the entire time. Doprel had to work to squeeze his massive frame through some of the smaller doors, but he managed.

“What kind of facility is this, anyway?”

“I know we’re on a new planet, Corvash, but you should still know a prison when you see one.”

“A prison? Why- never mind,” Corey said. “Makes sense an expert on serial killers would work in a prison.”

Kamak turned to look over his shoulder for a second, with a raised eyebrow.

“‘Work’?”

“Yeah, he- oh come the fuck on, Kamak,” Corey groaned, as realization struck. “Is your guy an expert on serial killers because he is a serial killer?”

“I thought that would be obvious,” Kamak said. “Who else would know better?”

“I don’t make a point of trusting psychopaths,” Corey said.

“Neither do I, but I know this guy,” Kamak said. “I’ve consulted with him before, he’s good.”

“It is also worth mentioning that he was briefly a member of Kamak’s crew,” Doprel said.

“What?”

“I didn’t know he was a serial killer at the time,” Kamak said. “He was nice, laughed at my jokes, paid for drinks. And he only killed like two people while we worked together.”

“Only two?”

“That’s a pretty small percentage of his total,” Kamak said. “Thirty-seven, by the way.”

“Thirty-seven!?”

“Nible Hamma-Dammerung,” Doprel said. “Also known as the Faceless Man. After his wife was disfigured and eventually killed by exposure to toxic chemicals, he took it upon himself to avenge her. He killed and cut the faces off thirty-seven representatives of the Luo-1 Chemical Corporation before we caught on to him.”

“I’ll tell you, realizing the guy we’d been hunting was on our ship was a hell of a time,” Kamak said. “But he surrendered without much of a fight. Guy’s got no interest in the average person, just wanted to avenge his wife. Very reasonable, by serial killer standards.”

“None of this is particularly comforting,” Corey said.

“Why, you work for Luo-1?” Kamak asked. “You’ll be fine. Nible likes me.”

“There’s only about five people in the whole universe who actually like you, Kamak, and one of them’s a serial killer,” Tooley said. “I think that says something about you.”

“Watch your mouth, Tools, I might tell Nible to cut it off,” Kamak said. Some of the armed guards gave him a look. “Joke. We joke like that.”

“Eh,” Tooley grunted. The Jukati guards shook their heads and led Kamak to the last door. A meeting room with several chairs overlooked a large courtyard in which several prisoners of various species milled about. Corey was surprised to see such a variety of species present. Most planets were typically heavy on their native species, even in prisons.

“This place some kind of intergalactic prison?”

“Only by technicality,” Farsus explained. “The Jukati approach to peace extends to their prisoners. They do not believe in the death penalty. Given that, and that they have no extradition arrangements with the Galactic Council, many cornered criminals come here to surrender themselves.”

“It’s why we brought Nible here,” Kamak said. “Killing the bastards that poisoned an entire planet ain’t that bad.”

“He cut their faces off, Kamak,” Doprel said. “While they were alive.”

“And he also bought me dinner a lot, so who’s to say who’s good or bad.”

Doprel could not physically roll his compound eyes, but a quick circle of the head made it clear he would if he could. Kamak ignored that and took a seat. He had a serial killer to chat with.