Writing Prompt- Complete the Story I looked up at the night sky and thought of the stories he used to tell about the stars, the constellations, and it seemed sad that I couldn’t remember a single one of them. There’s a string of stars called Orion’s Belt, and I think Orion is known as a hunter, but I’m not sure of what. It’s funny to think that, because in a way I’m a hunter too, only I hunt…
I looked up at the night sky and thought of the stories he used to tell about the stars, the constellations, and it seemed sad that I couldn’t remember a single one of them. There’s a string of stars called Orion’s Belt, and I think Orion is known as a hunter, but I’m not sure of what. It’s funny to think that, because in a way I’m a hunter too, only I hunt people.
Now that sounds creepy when you say it out loud. I suppose I should clarify. It’s not like I’m some psychopath or cannibal. I chase people for money. I’m a bounty hunter. Like Boba Fett.
Except clones aren’t real and I don’t have an awesome spaceship. I can’t afford one, although I keep saving. One day I’ll have enough. I do have a pretty sweet car though. All the good bounty hunters do. It’s a necessity for keeping up with our marks. If you have a slow vehicle, you don’t get your guy. “No mark, no money,” Pops would say.
The car is one of the few perks of the job. It was handed down to me from my grandfather, who got it from his grandfather, kinda like this job. It all runs in the family.
Pops used to tell me stories about the universe, and all the constellations while we worked on the car together. He never talked about the job at night. Only the stars and the car. Boy, how he loved her. Maxine was his only love, he told me repeatedly. Not really sure how I came into the picture, or my dad, if he never loved anyone but a car. But we never talked about my dad.
I learned from a young age to stick to three topics with Pops. Stars, cars and hunting marks. That’s what he lived for. To be fair, there wasn’t much else on this planet to occupy one’s time. It was pretty small and the landscape wasn’t anything to write home about. Not that there was anyone to write. This is home. And I never had anyone else, it’s always been me and Pops.
Jango, where I live, is really a small moon. Named by the first settler here, Ran Harding, as a joke. Harding decided bounty hunters should have a common meeting ground where we could all live and relax between jobs. It also functions as a base of operations for larger missions. Ones where multiple hunters take on Objectives where larger, more dangerous marks and needed to team up to bag ’em. Kind of like the one that my Pops went on two years ago. The one he never returned from.
Pops was not just my grandfather. He was my mentor. I often felt like he rambled a lot. Mostly about the stars. He claimed they were important to our lives. In a way that people had long forgotten. He thought if we could just study them, learn more about them they would change us. He knew every constellation out there. In multiple galaxies. It was pretty impressive when I think about it now. But I didn’t listen enough. I thought it was all mystical mumbo jumbo. I didn’t have time for ultra-spiritual nonsense. Stars were too bright and hot to host people, so marks didn’t go there. I only needed to know about what would bag me a mark. I ate up everything he had to say about the job and cars, but the star stuff fell on deaf ears.
Boy, do I wish I could change that now. As I’m standing here, in the cockpit of my best friend’s ship and we’re staring at a map of the stars, trying to figure out where to go next. Somewhere that won’t nearly kill us, like the last planet we went to. Maybe I’ll tell about that later. Right now, I have to focus on finding Pops.
Because up until yesterday I thought he was dead. Yesterday I had just accepted a new contract. I was off to Lyra to hunt my mark. Then I got a message.
They’ve found you, Velik. Take a ship out of Jengo, tonight. Follow the stars. They will lead you to me. Don’t forget my love. -Pops