Bane The Bad
Somewhere in the Northern Kremisphere
It was early morning and the sun had just begun to rise. The boy was making repairs to the family tractor when he heard a low pitched whine that was definitely not wind. The noise grew louder and reverberated off of the foothills around the homestead-the only dominating feature in the aptly named Flatlands-until it's source came in so low that it nearly scraped against one of the aforementioned hills.
The starfighter set itself down just outside the picket fence, sending up a cloud of dust. Nonetheless, the boy could see a figure emerge from the cockpit. At this point, he ran into the house. Whoever this was, they weren't on a social call.
The being that walked out from the dust cloud would have fit the bill for stereotypical appearances of both aliens and bad guys from Wild West movies. He was blue skinned, had a pair of nostrils, but no visible nose, and large red eyes on his scarred and lined face. For clothing, he wore a wide brimmed hat, a brown duster and shirt, grey trousers, boots, and fingerless gloves. On his wrists were gauntlets covered in buttons. Most striking of all was the breathing apparatus on either side of his neck. The man paused briefly and looked at the sign above the homestead's gate.
Staros Family
He continued on into the yard, occasionally looking this way or that, finally reaching the house's front door. The man gently pushed it open and leaned on it. At present, no one was in the dining room, though the alien could smell food cooking, intermingled with the sounds of farm animals and machinery out back.
A new sound joined the chorus; footsteps. The boy emerged from the basement followed by a middle aged man with salt and pepper hair and a bushy beard. The man walked slightly hunched over, but straightened up when he saw the being in his doorway.
Old Man Staros didn't know the alien personally, but he knew him by reputation. His name was Cad Bane, a bounty hunter from some far off galaxy who, along with many others in his profession, had been encouraged to emigrate to Earth and more specifically, the Northern Kremisphere, by any warlord or crime boss with the money and the resources for space exploration. Staros silently cursed whoever had come up with that idea.
Another set of footsteps, decidedly softer, entered the room. Staros' wife, quite a few years younger than him and of Latin blood if her olive skin was any indication, gave a confused look to her husband and son as she set breakfast on the table. Her expression changed to one of fear when she turned and saw the man in the doorway. Cad Bane, for his part, moved back his duster, showing the two LL-30 blasters on his hips. An unspoken threat, one that caused Staros' hand to instinctively hover over the Colt 1911 that he wore on his own hip.
The wife stopped the son as he was about to sit down, and hands on his shoulders, guided him out the back door, leaving her husband alone with the bounty hunter. After a moment, Staros, with the gait of a man with a bad back, seated himself and filled a plate full of food. Not long after, the sound of Bane's boots could be heard clomping across the floor. The Duros stood at the other end of the table, tilted his head at the Human, and then sat down across from him. To add to the tension, Bane grabbed a plate and began helping himself to the family's breakfast. Never once did he take his eyes off the homesteader.
After a minute of both men eating, Staros finally broke the silence.
"So, you work for Eaker?"
Bane didn't reply, but merely took a bite out of a piece of bacon.
"Tell Eaker that I've told him all that I know already and that I want to live in peace, understand? There is no use to go on tormenting me!" Staros shouted.
He continued on when the bounty hunter continued to fix him with that icy glare.
"I know nothing about that Nazi gold and now it's disappeared, but if he had listened to me we could have avoided this altogether."
Staros sipped some coffee.
"I went to the NCIS, there were no witnesses, they couldn't uncover any more. I can't tell Eaker what happened to the gold. Go back and tell him that."
"Word's around you've had a visitor. And Eaker knows it. Name's Jorgensen." Bane replied in a tone that was almost civil.
Staros looked up from his food as Bane spread some jam on a piece of toast.
"Yup, Jorgensen was here. Or Eaker's got it all wrong."
Bane punctuated that by taking a bite.
Staros, with a look of defeat, said "He's not wrong."
Bane smiled at that, again showing a facade of civility.
"Perhaps Eaker would like to know just what you two had to say, about the gold. But that's not why I'm being paid. I'm only interested in what name Jorgensen's hiding under."
The human raised an eyebrow.
"Why do you think he's assumed another name."
"I'd have found him by now. When I set out to find somebody, sooner or later, I find em. That's why I get paid."
Staros leaned forward a bit, a quizzical look on his face.
"How much is Eaker paying you?"
The bounty hunter didn't answer right away, but glanced at a photograph of four people on the wall.
"Your family?"
"Yes." Staros reluctantly replied.
That prompted a small chuckle from the Duros.
"Nice family."
Staros, visibly angered, yelled "What will he pay you for killing me?"
Bane's grin got wider.
"Five hundred. To get the name."
When Staros didn't respond, Bane's expression hardened and he leaned forward.
"The name." he snarled, all traces of the mock civility now gone.
The human ran his hands through his hair and looked down, clearly struggling with his conscience.
"Carston. Willem Carston. That's what he calls himself now." he softly said.
Bane didn't say or do anything, he merely kept helping himself to breakfast. Staros meanwhile, got up and went to a cabinet. He came back with some paper currency and a small bag and placed them near the Duros.
"Our emergency fund. Works out to about a thousand."
Bane leafed through the paper dollars.
"A thousand, eh?"
He then dumped the bag's contents on the table.
"Some in coin too, quite a hefty sum."
Bane then locked eyes with the old man.
"But you must realize that when I'm paid, I always finish the job."
Quickly realizing what the alien meant, Staros went for his 1911.
Bane was quicker.
The screech of a blaster echoed through the house and the homesteader went down, never to rise again. Bane stood up, twirled the blaster in his left hand around his finger and holstered it. He then pocketed the paper money and gathered the coins back into the bag.
The sound of a boot scuffing behind him caused the Duros to whirl around, draw his other blaster and fire, sending Staros' oldest son and his rifle falling down the stairs and to the kitchen floor. Sparing little more than a small smirk, Bane stepped over the corpse and walked out of the homestead.
Mrs Staros rushed back inside only to find her worst nightmare. The sight of her husband and oldest son laying dead and her youngest staring at her in horror was too much. The sounds of barking dogs, baying farm animals, and screaming starfighter engines all faded away as the woman fainted.
Later
Aside from the lights of medical equipment, the bedroom was almost pitch black. Lying in the bed, hooked up to an IV, was a middle aged human who looked far older than he actually was.
"I don't get this chemotherapy stuff. It's like taking poison to cure poison. Or putting one of those revolver guns to your head and hoping you hit an empty chamber."
Pushing that thought out of his mind, Bane turned on the bedroom light and moved up the dimmer switch a bit, allowing him to look on the form of Eaker, his current employer.
Eaker stirred slightly and opened his eyes, squinting at his visitor.
"It's you. Any information?"
Bane moved beside the bed and sat down in a chair.
"Lots. Staros said quite a bit that should interest you. And one or two things that interest me."
Eaker coughed a bit and then downed some water from a glass on the nightstand.
"Such as?" he weakly replied.
"The name Jorgensen's hiding under is Willem Carston."
Eaker slowly nodded as Bane continued.
"That's your part."
The dying man's expression grew concerned.
"Keep talking, Bane."
"He also told me about a certain box of Nazi gold bars, which just happened to disappear during, what do you guys call it again? Ah yes, World War Two."
The Duros cracked a smile.
"That's my part."
Eaker put his hand to his chin, as if in deep thought.
"Anything else?"
"Not enough for ya, eh? You needn't worry Eaker, he won't be saying nothing to nobody again."
The human let out a weakened laugh.
"Good, good. Perfect."
Eaker opened a drawer on the nightstand, took out a bundle of cash, and handed it to Bane.
"There you go, a job well done." he said before entering another coughing fit.
"Indeed." Bane said quietly as he counted the money.
Satisfied that the cash amounted to five hundred, Bane pocketed it, stood up and straightened his hat.
"Oh, I almost forgot, he gave me a thousand. I guess his idea was that I'd kill you."
That remark made Eaker laugh. Bane joined in for a bit before suddenly stopping.
"Of course, when I'm paid, I always see the job to the end. You know that."
Eaker's eyes widened in fear.
"No, Bane No!"
He was silenced when Bane drew his blaster and fired twice. The Duros looked down on the corpse and let out a chuckle before turning off the light and leaving.
Down the stairs he went, past the bodies of Eaker's guards, and outside to his starfighter. There, Bane activated the ship's communicator and was greeted by the hologram of a human with thinning black hair that was greying at the temples and a cybernetic photoreceptor in place of his left eye.
"I presume that Eaker has been eliminated?" he said in a guttural accent.
"You presume right, Baron Klink."
The human nodded and pressed a button off screen. Bane checked his wristcom and smiled slightly as the amount of money in his account went up.
"And now for the last piece of the puzzle."
The hologram was replaced with images of a human with curly grey hair and an eyepatch.
"These were taken from a security camera at Pacifica Port three days ago. He booked passage for Tiny-Huge Island under the name Carston."
"That's a long flight from here. Twelve hours I reckon."
"That was my people's assessment as well. You will likely arrive shortly after the liner. Find the man, and you will likely find the gold."
"Very well than, Bane out."
With that, Bane started up his starfighter and set off after his next target.
The End